


The Heart of a Dragon

by bioticspacewizard



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Skyrim Romance Mod - Fandom
Genre: Action & Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Language, Love, Multi, Original Character(s), Public Sex, Relationship(s), Romance, Rough Sex, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Skyrim Main Quest, Skyrim Romance Mod, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 108,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticspacewizard/pseuds/bioticspacewizard
Summary: When Aellana Evensnow is shipwrecked off the coast of Skyrim, tragedy strikes.    A darkly brooding Ranger comes into her life purely by chance, and she finds herself cast into a role she never imagined for herself.  But threats abound in Skyrim. Between battling dragons, pursuing bounties and studying magic with the most powerful Mages of Skyrim there is little time for Romance, especially when the biggest threat of all will come from someone she thought she could trust.





	1. Forged in Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I used Arthmoor's Alternate Start mod, so the beginning will diverge from Canon. I play around with dialogue mixing in game and original, and also dip in and out of canon and original story. I'd love to hear thoughts and criticisms if you feel like taking the time. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The weight of her clothes dragged her downward, drowning her in water so cold it threatened to flay the skin from her bones. She jerked and flailed, the needle-sharp water searing her lungs as she took in mouthful after mouthful of the salty liquid. She kicked and writhed, struggling to the surface, only to be sucked back down as her head found nothing but the solid wood of the ship's hull above her.

In a last attempt at self-preservation, Aellana kicked out, colliding with a beam below and pushing off to the side hoping to find fresh air at last. Relief washed over her as she felt the harsh slap of the icy wind as her face broke the surface, her hands grabbing for purchase on a passing piece of debris. Below her she could see the remains of the galley, curiosity turning to horror as she saw the body of the ship's cook under the water, trapped beneath the table he'd been working at only a few moments before.

Dragging herself through the bowels of the ship Aellana tried desperately to get her thoughts in order. The shock was still raw, and her mind fuzzy. All she knew was that she had to find the crew and get off this vessel. She was half Nord, but even this water pushed at the limits of her tolerance for the cold. But the Breton crew she'd sailed with? Her father? She didn't hold out much hope for their survival.

Aellana summoned a mage light to illuminate the oppressive darkness. The silence was eerie, punctuated only by the tortured groaning of the capsized ship's wooden hull, buffeted by waves. She tried to create a flame in her palm to stave off the creeping cold, but her shivering limbs and growing sense of panic made it difficult to concentrate on keeping it lit. Three years of training, failing her now in this first test of her endurance. She could have cried with the futility of it.

The longer she stayed in this wooden tomb, the more likely it was that she'd never escape it. Three years away from home, training as a mage in High Rock, only to die on shore, drowned in the very vessel meant to carry her to safety. Even in this dire situation, she could appreciate the poetic irony it.

A magical ability like hers was rare in Nords, but her father, Tynand Ereland, was a Breton, a people known for their magical aptitude. They'd been returning from High Rock where Aellana had chosen to pursue her studies. She and Tynand had travelled together, spending time with his people and getting to know his culture before settling down to life in Skyrim where she would complete her studies at the College of Winterhold. It had seemed like a sound idea at the time, but one that now seemed ill-advised.

It felt like hours had passed in the freezing waters, but it was likely only minutes. Time appeared to have lost all meaning as she searched her surroundings, desperate to find a way out of her predicament. Finally, she found a hole in the hull where the ship had run aground. Breathing deeply she pushed herself below the icy surface and out into the open waters, swimming to shore as if her life depended on it, which, given the numbness already spreading through her limbs, it likely did. With the last of her strength, Aellana pushed herself onto the snowy shore and looking around, realised that she was alone, the lone survivor of a crew of thirty souls. Her friends, gone. Her father...she couldn't dwell on that yet. Tears pricked behind her eyes, falling onto her cheeks and freezing where they fell, and as grief overtook her, everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

Her whole body ached. Aellana's feet and hands felt red hot, yet still numb, and her head was pounding. But most surprisingly, despite her physical discomfort, she was warm. It took a moment for her to come to terms with her surroundings, the last events in her memory seeming more like a nightmare than reality. But, as awareness returned, she found herself sitting up with a start, panic threatening to overwhelm her.

"Hush child, hush" came a soothing voice from her side. She whipped her head around, raising a hand, filled with flame to ward off any would-be attackers.

A woman sat at her bedside, a calming smile on her face, making soothing sounds, and wordless pleas for calm. Aellana tried to speak, but her voice came out as more of a croak as she let the flame die down, embarrassed at her show of aggression.

"Don't try to talk yet. You're still half frozen. It's a wonder you survived."

Survived? A shipwreck. Yes. It hadn't been a dream. The panic rose in her belly and threatened to overwhelm her once again.

"The ship...my...father..." she managed to croak out.

"Was your father on that ship?" the kindly voice enquired. "I'm so sorry my dear," she placed a sympathetic hand over Aellana's. "You were the only survivor."

"No....not.....possible." The panic was rising and rising. Her father, dead? Tynand was her world. They confided in each other, did everything together. They were two peas in a pod, more alike than different. Where her mother was all spikes and anger, her father was gentleness itself. He'd fostered her love of magic, had made her childhood the happiest it could ever have been. He couldn't be gone. It just wasn't possible.

"I truly am sorry," the woman's face showed genuine concern. "I wish I could have seen you wake to happier news."

Aellana turned her head away, ashamed to let the woman see the hot tears that stained her cheeks, holding back the sobs that threatened to wrack her already sensitive body in waves of misery.

The woman retreated, allowing Aellana her privacy, leaving her alone in the darkness with her thoughts.

 

* * *

 

"You're awake!" The woman behind the bar started in surprise as Aellana emerged from her room. The noisy inn overwhelmed her senses at first, and she felt herself sway on her feet, trying to get her bearings amid the strange smells and sounds. The pain was slowly fading. The physical at least. The emotional scars would take far longer to heal.

"I wanted to thank you for your kindness," Aellana said after a moment, taking her time to collect herself. "I don't know how I got here, where I am, or who you are, and you must know even less about me. But you took me in, and I thank you."

The woman smiled kindly. "I'm Elda Early-Dawn, and this is my Inn, Candlehearth Hall. You're in Windhelm."

Windhelm. Stronghold of the Stormcloaks, the rebel faction intent on continuing the worship of Talos and keeping Skyrim 'pure' for the Nords. With a Breton father, Aellana had always hated the Stormcloak's attitude to the other races of Tamriel. Being here now felt like a disservice to his still raw memory.

She'd grown up South East of Whiterun and had very rarely ventured as far North as Windhelm. She'd certainly never visited the city itself. Her Breton blood craved the warmth, and the never-ending winter of Windhelm seemed like a life of torture in comparison to the milder climates of the South.

"Aellana Evensnow," she said, holding out her hand to the other woman in companionship. The look of surprise on Elda's face didn't escape her notice as the other woman realised who her family was, and who her father would have been. "How did I get this far North?"

"Your ship wrecked not far from here."

It must have been sent off course and overshot Winterhold in the storm. She remembered it clearly. The ship being tossed about like a child's toy at the mercy of the elements. She'd been frightened, and her father had held her close on the bed, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her fear by telling her everything would be alright as he had done when she was a little girl suffering from night terrors. But he was wrong. He was dead. Nothing would ever be alright again.

"How did I come to be here?" she asked, pushing down the tears that threatened once again.

"A passing rider stumbled upon the wreck. He went down to look for survivors and found you passed out in the snow. You're lucky he found you when he did. A few moments longer and you'd have been dead."

"Yes, lucky." She didn't feel very fortunate. She would happily have traded places with her father, to know that he was alive and well. But instead, here she was, in a city that hated him, being looked after by strangers.

"I know it's hard. I lost my father a few years ago." Aellana cursed herself for letting her thoughts show so clearly on her face. "The pain, it doesn't go away. But you will learn to live with it."

She nodded at Elda in thanks. Platitudes were not what she needed right now, and she appreciated the older woman's candour.

"Do you think word could be sent to my mother? I feel well enough to travel, so should return home. But she should know as soon as possible what has happened, to make," Aellana swallowed past the sudden lump that had appeared in her throat, "arrangements.

"Of course my dear. Whatever you need."

Aellana had never had a close relationship with her mother. She doubted that a three-year separation would have improved it much. Her parents had been very much in love once, but over the years her mother had become much more invested in status and wealth than in genuinely caring for her husband or child. It was a relief to all of them when Aellana and Tynand and taken their leave to spend some time in High Rock. But still, to expect a reunion after three years and only to find one's family torn apart by death? Even someone as hard as her mother would be touched by the tragedy of it all.

She didn't allow herself to dwell on the reunion overlong. That her mother remained in the South, living in luxury, spending her father's money, while Tynand himself lay mouldering in a watery grave was almost too much to fathom. Instead, she turned her mind to the practicalities of the moment.

"If I could trouble you for some travelling clothes?" The older woman nodded in quick assent. "I have no money. I suspect it's all at the bottom of the ocean right now, but I will be sure my family reimburses you for all you've done for me."

Elda waved her hand dismissively in Aellana's direction. "Nonsense. It's the least I can do. I'm sure I have something for you to wear, and I'll happily give you some coin for the journey."

The tears came hot and fast then, not tears of pain, but tears of gratitude. She fell into the woman's arms, allowing herself the solace of her warm embrace, letting the pain of the last few days stream forth in loud, angry waves. Elda held her, stroking her hair as her father once did, and for the first time since running aground on the shores of Skyrim, Aellana didn't feel alone.


	2. A Hazardous Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aellana returns home to arrange for her father's memorial. But her grieving is short lived as her mother makes plans for her future that she wants no part of. Will her mother's machinations drive a rift between them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some inspiration for Aellana's family dynamics from Barbara Cartland's 'A Hazard of Hearts'. Barbara Cartland is the queen of the trashy romance, so it seemed fitting to pay homage to her in some way. :)

The soft light of the lanterns lit the Manor house like a faery bower, the muted tones giving it a wistful, peaceful air. The stillness of the night, punctuated only occasionally by a chirping cricket and the rustle of the wind through the trees played in stark contrast to the turmoil raging in Aellana's mind.

Three years was a long time to be away. The house looked the same, but she knew that once inside, everything would be different. The courtyard was bright and welcoming, the statue of Dibella towering majestically over the entryway, reminding visitors just who lived here. The patron saint of artists standing guard over her most devoted adherents.

Historically the Evensnows had been painters, sculptors and artists, or craftsmen and smiths creating expensive commissioned works for the noble houses of Skyrim, including a few High Kings. Their work was displayed in almost every temple, and Royal house across the land, and even now the wealthy and ambitious vied to become the owners of a work created by an Evensnow. The family had slowly grown in wealth and status over the years, and their manor houses now dotted the landscape like glittering jewels in the crown of Skyrim.

Aellana herself had trained as a sculptor and painter but had found that while she had some talent, she would never be sought after in the way that the rest of her family were. She'd taken after her father, with abilities that leaned more to the magical than the artistic. But where her creative talent failed, her talent for enchantment shone brightly. Being able to supplement the work of her extended family with a well-placed charm had made her an asset in a way they'd never considered, and her cousins, uncles and aunts would often call on her expertise to drive up the price of their own already expensive commissions. With that, Aellana was able to carve out a niche for herself in a family that prized their artistic legacy above all else.

Sigrund Evensnow, Aellana's mother, despite being possibly the most talented sculptor of her generation had given up her vocation before Aellana's birth. Ever a flighty youth, Sigrund had instead chosen to travel and see the world. She'd paid her way with small commissioned works here and there, but never anything that would take her more than a few days to complete. It had turned out to be a shrewd business move at the time, as the rarity of her work had driven up prices. She'd used the funds to wander from city to city, living lavishly, and gaining quite the reputation as a beauty and a socialite.

And a beauty she was. Sigrund's skin was as smooth as finely cast porcelain, and despite her impending middle age was still flawless, with only the slightest lines showing near the creases of her eyes. She was the kind of woman that others envied, and men craved to be near. Aellana had inherited her mother's thick, snow-white hair, a traditional Evensnow trait, grey-blue eyes and pale skin, but that is where the similarities ended. From her father, she'd inherited a slightly smaller stature than was usual for a Nord, a thin frame and a smattering of freckles across her nose that Sigrund had spent most of Aellana's childhood trying to cover up.

Her father Tynand Erelund, on the other hand, had been a highly sought after Jeweller specialising in enchantment, when he'd met Sigrund. She'd appeared in High Rock, carried on a cresting wave of infamy and acclaim. She'd come to him with a commission, a piece of her own design, a circlet of interwoven leaves set with garnet and peridot created in filigree so delicate that only the best craftsman could do it justice. The finished piece was a wonder, sold at auction for a small fortune, and it wasn't long before the Breton, and the Nord were inseparable. Together they were a sensation, a designer of Sigrund's talents combined with a smith of Tynand's? Working together they became very wealthy, very quickly.

That their business arrangement had turned to a more romantic one came as no surprise to anyone. The couple were already the subject of court gossip. Tynand was handsome, with deep-set brown eyes, a muscular physique, and sandy hair that fell about his soft and friendly face in unruly waves. He was as warm and deep as Sigrund was icy and shallow. Fire and Ice they called them, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the two would become more than just friends.

The proof of the rumours came sooner than expected as Sigrund fell pregnant. Overnight she was whisked back to Skyrim by the Evensnow clan hoping to preserve the family's reputation before news of the pregnancy spread. But the damage was done, the rumour mill had ensured it. The Evensnows brought Tynand to Skyrim, and he and Sigrund were forced to marry to preserve the family's honour. He took the Evensnow name, as was traditional for anyone marrying into the family, and a few months later Aellana had been born to a father who loved her, and a mother who resented her.

They'd been happy at first, but as the reality of their situation had finally sunk in, Sigrund had turned to drink and gambling, squandering a considerable portion of the family's wealth. It was only Tynand's skill as a jeweller that had kept them out of financial trouble. 

Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and entered the large stone Manor house, ready to face what lay ahead.

 

* * *

 

She'd expected anything but this. The wave of sound hit her with full force as she pushed open the heavy oak doors. The smell of sweet wine, bitter ale, and roasting meat permeated her nostrils, and she was almost overwhelmed by the whirlwind of colour and glittering jewels that accosted her senses. In the middle of it all wove her mother, resplendent in a pale blue gown trimmed with fur and dusted with pale pink pearls at the neck and hem. She looked like a snow queen presiding over her court, and Aellana looked down in dismay at her own travel-stained shirt, breeches, riding boots, and dusty cloak.

Sigrund looked over as the opening door let in a gust of cold, night air.

"Daughter!" she exclaimed, running to embrace Aellana in a show of feigned affection.

"Mother?" Aellana looked around the front hall. "What on earth is going on?"

"Just some friends," she said, sweeping her arm over the crowded front hall where Aellana only recognised one or two faces. "To celebrate your father's memory."

Celebrate was right. Everywhere Aellana looked people were laughing, dancing, eating, and drinking. There was music coming from the ballroom, with distant sounds of dice being thrown from the salons just beyond. She knew that meant her mother was gambling. She could barely contain her anger, her whole body trembling with rage.

"Father is barely two weeks dead, and you throw a party?"

The room fell silent, and Aellana realised she'd been shouting. But she barely registered the reaction as she stared defiantly into her mother's eyes, a small twitch in the corner of Sigrund's eye the only outward indication that her words had had any impact.

"Do not disrespect our guests Aellana," she ground out between gritted teeth. "I've had your room prepared and a dress laid out. Go upstairs, and I will speak with you presently."

And with that, Aellana found herself dismissed in her own home. She made her way up the stairs in stunned silence and locked the door without lighting any candles, shutting out the sound and embracing the cooling calm of the dark interior. Her respite was short lived however as a sharp knock sounded on the door, and before she could respond to please be left alone, her mother had forced her own key into the lock and entered.

"For the sake of the Gods Aellana, you're back five minutes, and it already smells like a stable in here. And do light some candles."

"Good to see you too mother."

"Don't take that tone. I wasn't the one who left for three years."

"To study mother. You of all people should understand wanting to travel and discover yourself."

"Yes, well look what it's come to. Me, a widow!" she cried, throwing her hands up in mock despair.

"Have you spared a thought for anyone but yourself?" Aellana found herself shouting again. Her mother had always been selfish, but this woman that stood before her, she hardly recognised. From the smell of stale wine Aellana inferred that she was drunk, and from the wild look in her eyes, she also concluded that the gambling tables had not been kind to her.

"You've lost a father Aellana, and I've lost a husband. Do not think that you are the only one to grieve." She turned back toward the door. "There is fresh water in the basin, a dress on the bed, and dinner will be served in an hour. Don't be late," and with a brusque slam of the door, she was gone.

Aellana stood in stunned silence for a few moments before she busied herself lighting the room. It was just as she'd left it. On the nightstand lay a small silver bracelet with the Ereland family crest, a reminder that despite the name Evensnow, she would always have a place with her father's family. The tears threatened at the memory of her father, and Aellana forced herself to turn away lest she once again succumb to grief.

The dress lay on the bed, just as her mother had advised. The fabric was beautiful, a mix of shimmering silks creating shifting hues like a peacock's feathers. She had to admit, Sigrund had excellent taste. Dark lace spread from the hem, fading into a black pearl belt where the skirt met the bodice. Lifting it off the bed to take a closer look, Aellana gasped as she saw the bodice itself. Surely her mother could not expect her to wear this? The dress was cut low, dipping even further in the centre in a small V which would accentuate her cleavage. Aellana was not ashamed of her figure, but to wear something like this at her father's memorial? She simply couldn't.

She started at another knock on the door. One of the servants let herself in and busied herself preparing the wash basin.

"Let me help you dress, Ladyship."

"No need." Aellana moved toward the wardrobe where she kept her evening dresses for formal occasions. "I won't be wearing this." She would be happy to meet her mother halfway and dress formally. But the cupboard was empty.

"I'm afraid the lady of the house was most insistent. She has removed all other clothing from the room, assuming you might object."

"She what!?" Aellana stared at the girl in shock, who at least had the decency to look thoroughly ashamed.

"I'm sorry, ladyship."

With nothing to wear to dinner but her dirty riding clothes Aellana realised she had no choice. Surely even a dress like this was better than coming down to dinner naked?

 

* * *

 

The table fell completely silent when Aellana entered the room. She felt her cheeks stain red as she tried in vain to cover herself and considered that fact that it may, indeed, have been less shocking to appear naked.

At first, she thought the silence was judgement, but as she looked around and noticed the approving looks she straightened herself and decided to make the best of an awkward situation. The shifting turquoise hues of the dress accentuated the contrast of her almost-white hair and brought out the colour of her pale, blue eyes. The plunging neckline, revealing almost more than it concealed, was unadorned, allowing her pale skin to shine like alabaster, and drew the eye of almost everyone in the room.

A servant led her to the seat on the opposite end of the long table to her mother, who cast her a quick glance and an appreciative nod, which Aellana returned without humour. She recognised only half the people at the table and wondered whether any of them had actually known her father, and even more tellingly noted that some who should have been here we absent. She retreated into her memories once again and let dinner pass her by in a haze.

A few people stopped to tell stories and anecdotes about their time with Tynand, but they were shallow tales, told by those who didn't know or understand what a great man he had been. He deserved better than this, and Aellana wished more than anything that she could be with the Erelunds in High Rock to mourn with them. There would be no funeral as his body had not been recovered. The best they could do was celebrate his memory. One day, Aellana determined, she would return to High Rock and truly grieve with the people she now realised she considered her true family.

As the meal came to an end, she found herself whisked into the parlour by her mother and introduced to a number of lords, ladies, Jarls, and various other nobles that she couldn't have cared less about. She smiled, nodded, made small talk, but her mind was elsewhere, beyond herself, watching her own movements from afar and wishing she were anywhere but here.  Her social obligations passed by in a haze until she finally found herself blissfully alone by the fireplace in the drawing room.

"You beauty was not exaggerated." A male voice came from across the room as she heard the door click shut, frightening her half to death.

"Thank you, sir...?" she said whirling around, trying to see to whom the voice belonged.

"Gunmar Jurgarinson, at your service." The man bowed low, but Aellana noticed that his eyes were shifting, looking her up and down. She found herself unconsciously covering herself with a hand. There was something about the man that made her exceedingly uncomfortable.

Gunmar Jurgarinson was not unattractive. He was in middle age, but well built with a thick head of dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a full beard. But, there was something in his gaze that made her feel like a rabbit must feel when faced with a fox about to tear into its throat. He was predatory, and Aellana took an unconscious step backwards as he took one toward her.

"I am sorry about the death of your father." His words conveyed sympathy, but his tone was bored, as if he knew his words were expected but didn't care about what they meant.

"Why? Did you know him?"

"Not personally, no. I am more an acquaintance of your mother's." She wasn't surprised. Her father had surrounded himself with close friends and had shunned the company of those wanting only to trade on the Evensnow name. "A remarkable woman, your mother, who has bred a remarkable daughter." He took her hand from where it covered the plunge in her dress, and held it to his lips, letting his gaze linger just a little too long.

"I am surprised we have not become acquainted before now, I'm sure I would remember." Aellana did her best to be polite, while every instinct was telling her to run.

"This is an injustice which I already plan to remedy." He had backed her into the fireplace, and with nowhere to retreat, she found herself pushed uncomfortably into the mantle trying desperately to keep the back of her dress out of the flames. "Perhaps a more intimate acquaintance is in order?" he whispered into her ear, his breath, stale with ale, making her gag in disgust.

"This is highly inappropriate." Aellana tried to sound forceful as she sought to sidestep out of the man's embrace, but instead, he grabbed her hand, wrapping her in one arm and guiding the other to the growing bulge in his trousers. As her palm made contact with the straining fabric, he let out a low, animal growl, pushing her to the wall beside the fireplace, one hand forcing her to paw at his breeches, the other clawing at her skirts, trying to raise them above her hips.

Aellana struggled against him, but the harder she fought, the harder he pushed, his fingers exploring up her thigh as he lowered his face to her breasts.

"Ah, good, you two have met!"

Aellana felt relief as Gunmar's weight lifted as he spun around at the intrusion. She went to call her thanks and retreat from the room when she saw who her saviour was. In the doorway, pushing it closed behind her once again, stood her mother.

"Your ladyship." Gunmar bowed low as her mother entered the room. "Your praise of your daughter was not exaggerated. I am content with our arrangement."

Sigrund laughed heartily. "My good Sir, I could not be more pleased," then, glancing at his prominent erection she added, "Nor it seems, could you! We couldn't be happier with the match. Could we Aellana?"

Aellana stared dumbfounded at her mother, completely at a loss. She had no idea what was going on. She looked between the two trying to make sense of this bizarre conversation, when suddenly realisation dawned.

"Match?" she managed to squeak out, afraid of what the answer would be.

"Of course Aellana. This man is your fiance. We've made all the arrangements, and you will leave with his household tomorrow. I've already sent your things ahead."

"My...things?"  _Of course_. It all came to her then. The empty cupboards in her room, the ridiculous dress she was forced to wear tonight, all in a ploy to entice this one, abhorrent man who thought he could own her, and to please a mother who believed she could sell her. "But why, mother?" She could hardly keep the betrayal from her voice.

"It's a matter of necessity dear, one day you'll understand." She waved her hand dismissively as if this were any other business transaction and hardly worth her time. "I'll leave you two to continue your acquaintance." And just like that, her mother left the room, leaving her to the mercies of Gunmar Jurgarinson whether she was willing, or not.

He started toward her once again, the lust in his eyes showing plainly. She kept retreating, trying to get to the door, but he was fast and strong, and before she knew it he had her in an embrace, forcing his mouth over hers, his tongue pushing his way between her lips. She tasted old ale and stale tobacco and gagged as he floundered and explored every inch of her mouth, yelping as he bit at her bottom lip.

"Please..." she whispered.

"You should be grateful to me." His voice could barely conceal his lust. He pushed himself against her, spreading her legs below her skirt running his hands up and down, teasing himself, taking time to enjoy his new plaything.

"Grateful?" she spat. "For what?"

"Don't you know, my dear?" he grumbled out as his mouth left sticky wet tracks down her neck to the rise of her breasts as he attempted to kiss his way toward them. "Now that your father's dead, you're broke," he panted. "Your mother's gambled away all your money. Without my generosity, you'd be destitute, selling your charms on the streets." His hand once again began bundling her skirts above her hips, hooking under her leg to lift it closer toward his crotch where he started to push against it like a dog on heat.

"So, she sold me to pay off her debts?"

"Think of it more of a business arrangement. I need a woman to be the jewel in the crown of my empire," he increased the speed of his thrusting, moving her leg painfully as he pushed himself against it, the fabric of his trousers burning at her skin where it made contact, all the while keeping her hands pinned behind her back. "In turn, I am saving you from a life of poverty." His lust made his voice ragged, and his words came out in hot, dry, panting syllables. "I'd hate to see a beauty such as you fall so low. Surely submitting to me is preferable fate?"

Aellana couldn't think of anything less preferable. His weight eased off as his thrusting stopped so he could lift her skirts once more as his hands moved to his belt. With her hands finally free Aellana did the first thing she could think to do. She created a flame. Her hand was at her side, and she saw the flame sputter and go out.  _No, no, no!_  She willed it to stay alight. Her magical ability had already failed her in her first test of strength, if there were ever a time she needed it to work, it was now. She needed to control herself. 

She forced herself to calm, ignoring the pawing, sweaty man whose trousers were loosened, and whose hands were already making their way inside her smallclothes. She retreated into herself, focusing her magic and her energy until she felt the heat take form and, with relief, the flame leap to life.

"Get off me. Now." She growled, drawing her hand back, ready to unleash a stream of fire into her assailant.

Gunmar stood back, shocked to his core, hot, white anger pulsing behind his eyes. He took a step toward her, hand raised as if to strike, but Aellana let the fire in her own hands spark upward, sending a wave of heat his way until he stopped in his tracks. Keeping the flame lit, she smoothed her skirts with one hand and backed toward the door, slamming it behind her as soon as she was through. She quickly retreated up the stairs, extinguishing the flame in an effort not to draw any attention to herself. If she was going to get out of here, she had to do it now, without delay.

She locked the door to her room as she entered and ran toward the bed where her dirty riding clothes lay discarded. She threw them into a pack, picked up the silver bracelet from her father, the only thing portable she had to remind herself of him, and pried up a floorboard that held a secret stash of septims she'd kept aside for emergencies. She'd always assumed an emergency would constitute paying a workman if she were short on coin. Never had she imagined it would be a midnight escape from a forced marriage, arranged by no one less than her own mother.

Taking one last look around the room she assumed she'd never see again, she threw on a cloak, gathered up her skirts, and escaped through the window, climbing down the tree she'd used to escape this room ever since she was a child. The frivolities of youth seemed so far away tonight. But there was no time to dwell as she retreated into the darkness, leaving the Evensnow manor far behind, without so much as a single glance farewell.


	3. The Road to Whiterun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The roads of Skyrim are dangerous. With no belongings and very little money, Aellana must make her way to Whiterun.

It was dawn before Aellana stopped running. She'd fled through the night, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the place she had once called home. The night air chilled her to her bones, but she had nothing with her save a few coins, the dress she still had on, and the dirty riding clothes in her pack to keep the cold at bay. As the sun crested above the trees, she allowed herself some respite, collapsing in a heap of exhaustion, grief, and betrayal.

She'd run all night with no direction. No sense of purpose other than self-preservation. She knew she had to get away but had given no thought to where. Aellana attempted to take in her surroundings, hoping she could find something familiar which would let her know just how far she'd managed to run. There was smoke curling above the treeline in the distance, and she forced herself to her feet to investigate, hoping to enlist some aid.

She'd not run far enough it seemed. She recognised the farmhouse up ahead as belonging to one of her family's tenants. As she stepped out into the clearing she briefly considered running on, but her exhaustion and bleeding feet won out, and she limped to the welcoming porch, knocking on the door.

A plump, middle-aged woman with large eyes and a kind, open face answered. Aellana felt a twinge of recognition. They'd most likely met years ago when she was a child and still travelled to visit tenants over the holidays with her father. She cursed herself now that she'd not taken the time to continue the tradition. She would have liked to be able to call the woman by name. The woman's eyes widened as she took in Aellana's dishevelled appearance, immediately recognising her, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Your ladyship! What...?"

"Please," Aellana begged. "I need your help."

"The whole house is looking for you, my lady," she said, gesturing in the direction of Evensnow Manor, "I had riders on my doorstep late last night asking if I'd seen you. They'll be so relieved to hear you're safe!"

Well, her mother certainly hadn't wasted any time.

"Please. I can't go back," panic making her words sound rushed and pleading. "If you'll let me in, I'll explain everything."

"Of course, of course," the woman waved her inside, and Aellana breathed a sigh of relief as she sank into a chair by the hearth, kicking off her heeled shoes.

"Thank you, mistress...?"

"Greta, ladyship," she curtsied quickly, shooting a concerned glance at Aellana's battered and bleeding feet. "Begging your pardon, but have you been out in the woods all night?"

Aellana nodded, and Greta took pause, looking over the rest of her. She could only begin to imagine how she seemed to this woman, hair dishevelled, face and dress streaked with dirt, breasts spilling out of an inappropriately low bodice, and ridiculous shoes that she really should have stopped to change earlier.

"I have some riding clothes and boots in my pack, but I didn't dare to stop," she said by way of apology, although she wasn't quite sure what she was apologising for.

"Well, you must be starving. I'll prepare some bread and cheese for your breakfast while you get out of that dress, and I'll heat some water for you to wash."

"Mistress Greta, I cannot thank you enough."

Greta disappeared into a back room, returning with an oversized nightgown.

"This'll do for now while I see to your clothes."

Aellana disrobed putting the dress in a neat pile with her filthy riding clothes, exhaling with relief as she divested herself of her too-tight bodice, only realising now how difficult it had made breathing for her. No wonder she'd made such poor time in her escape. It made her wish even more that she'd taken the few minutes to change her clothes earlier. Her feet certainly would have thanked her.

True to her word, Greta returned with an ample supply of bread, butter, cheese, and fruits that Aellana tore into, ravenously. She waited patiently for Aellana to eat her fill, busying herself by attempting to rub the worst of the dirt from Aellana's dress and riding leathers.

"If you've had enough to eat, ladyship, I suppose you should be telling me what brought you to my door in the early hours."

She told the woman everything. Greta already knew about Tynand's death, of course, expressing her sympathies. Aellana's father had been a good man she said, always fair to his tenants. He would be missed. That her mother had gambled away the family fortune came as no surprise to Greta either, but even she was shocked that a mother could sell her own daughter to pay off her debts.

"Begging your pardon, ladyship, but I never did like Sigrund, and now I know why. What kind of woman allows a man to force himself on her daughter, at her own father's funeral!"

"Do you see, now, why I can't go back?"

"I'll help you in any way I can, but I fear you can't stay here ladyship."

Aellana nodded, she already knew as much. Despite her exhaustion and pain, she'd have to keep moving if she wanted to escape the fate that awaited her at home.

"I've some coin, perhaps I could buy a cloak and a change of clothing from you?"

"Take what you need ladyship. I have a cloak that belonged to my late husband. It's not stylish, but it will keep you warm."

Greta once again disappeared to the room in the back and reappeared with an extra set of good quality riding leathers and an oversized pack filled with food, a map, and supplies for the journey. Tears of gratitude sprang into Aellana's eyes as she embraced the older woman. She changed quickly, the soft, if somewhat oversized, leather making a pleasant change from her restrictive bodice, and bandaged her damaged feet, slipping them into her leather boots. The dirty, damaged dress she put deep at the bottom of the pack. It was her only belonging now, and despite its state of disrepair, she couldn't part with it yet.

"Mistress Greta, there is no way I can ever thank you enough." They stood in the doorway, and Aellana pressed her bag of coins into the woman's hands.

"Keep your money, ladyship."

"Please, I insist. If my family is now truly destitute, then I foresee a hard winter ahead for you. I can't bear for you to suffer on my account."

"We'd not wish to see you tied to the likes of Gunmar Jurgarinson, mistress. He has quite the reputation. And not a good one. You'll need your money for the journey ahead."

As she embraced the woman goodbye, she resolved to send whatever coin she could back to Greta. She couldn't marry Gunmar, but she also wasn't willing to let hardship befall the people who had helped her in her hour of need.

"Goodbye Greta, and thank you for everything."

"Where will you go, ladyship?"

"Whiterun. And from there, who knows?"

 

* * *

 

She kept mainly to the back roads and away from settlements, not wanting to be spotted. In these parts, she was still well-known, and she didn't want word of her whereabouts to get back to her mother and Gunmar. Greta had given Aellana enough food for three days worth of travel, and with careful rationing, she'd managed to eke it out to four, but by the fifth day, she was running short on supplies. She managed to forage for berries, and steal an apple here or there from nearby orchards, but it was hardly enough to sustain her. It wasn't long before she realised she'd have to search out a nearby hamlet or farm to try and barter supplies now that her coin was gone.

She was heading to the main road into Whiterun as dark began to settle, hoping to mask her progress under cover of night when she heard the cries. Someone in the distance was calling for help, apparently in pain. Aellana ran toward the voice, hoping to make it in time to lend her aid.

She burst out of the woods to find a man by the side of a bridge, slumped over and seemingly wounded. She could see his possessions strewn about the road, but there was no sign of his attackers. She rushed to his side, gathering pots, pans and other tinkers' wares as she went.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

The man grunted in pain and tried to sit up, wincing as he did so and clutching at his ribs. Aellana looked at him with concern, but he waved it off.

"My caravan," he gasped. "We were overrun by bandits. Bastards," he spat, " they stole everything I own. I'm ruined."

"Please, let me help you. Is there anything I can do?" Aellana hooked her arm around the man's waist, helping him to rise.

"My camp's not far off, just up in the ruins of Nilheim. Would you help me get there?"

"Of course!" The man limped off ahead, and Aellana followed, packing the last of his strewn belongings into a bag and carrying it along with him.

"It's not far. Just over the bridge, at the top of the hill." Aellana could see a campfire and some guards up ahead. "I'll go up and let them know you're with me, so they don't shoot us down. With bandits around, we can't be too careful."

Aellana couldn't agree more. The last thing she wanted right now was to run afoul of bandits. It would be a cruel irony if she'd escaped the clutches of a man who wanted to force her into marriage only to fall afoul of ruffians who would likely do worse to her, 1000 time over.

A few minutes passed before she saw the man returning with the guards from the camp in tow. With surprise, she noticed his limp was gone, and as he saw the realisation dawn in her eyes, he gave her a cruel sneer.  _Irony it is then_ , she thought to herself.

"There's a fool born every minute." He laughed, a harsh sound in the silence of the darkness.

One of the guards gave her a once over and clapped his hands with glee.

"Telrav," he turned to the man that Aellana had thought to rescue, "you're a bloody genius."

"Um, thank you?" he asked, obviously confused.

"Do you know who this is? It's Sigrund Evensnow's daughter!" Aellana cursed her cruel luck. "Gunmar Jurgarinson's paying a pretty penny for her return. You've just made us all rich men."  _So, a bounty then_. A few short weeks ago she'd not have thought to be such a valuable commodity.

Telrav's face contorted into a cruel sneer. "So, she's more valuable to us alive than dead. At least we'll have a pretty thing to play with tonight," he came close, holding her face in one hand, turning it this way and that as if inspecting livestock. "We have to return you alive. That doesn't mean we can't have our fun." He began to drag her up the path to the camp, and something in Aellana snapped. With a roar she let flames leap to her hands, incinerating the bandits before her.

The men screamed and ran, their movements only encouraging the flames to leap higher and higher. The air filled with the scent of charred flesh, and the screams of pain slowly turned to whimpers, then ragged breathing, and then, finally, silence.

Aellana could only stare. What had she done? She'd only meant to frighten them away, but she'd lost control, and now five men lay dead at her feet, still smouldering and twitching. She knew that magic was deadly, but she'd not trained to fight with it. She'd wanted to mend, to heal, to enchant. She'd never wanted to use her magic to cause harm, but now, she supposed she was a murderer, despite never before having taken a life. But there was no going back from this. She sank to her knees in the dirt, shaking and sobbing until finally she turned her face up to the stars, and shouted her grief and anger at the very heavens themselves.

 

* * *

 

It was still dark when she composed herself. That someone had heard her screams earlier she was sure, so she had to keep moving. Aellana glanced down at the bodies at her feet once more wondering if she should dispose of them, deciding against it due to the time she would lose. Bandits ran afoul of each other every day in the wilds of Skyrim, and with the bodies burned there was nothing to tie her to their deaths. She moved up the hill and into their camp, which she was surprised to find was neat and incredibly well stocked.

She considered leaving everything as it was, but she was hungry and needed coin. She took all the food with her, commandeered a sword and a spare set of riding leathers, a few coin pouches, and enough small valuables that wouldn't weigh her down too much but would fetch a decent price. If she were already a murderer, it wouldn't hurt to add thief to her repertoire. If the guards caught her, her life would already be forfeit, so what was one more charge?

As she walked away, she spared a glance backward at the scene of destruction. It was all about survival now. She wasn't just running away from home anymore. She was on the run, pursued by anyone desperate enough to need the coin for her bounty, which in Skyrim, was just about everybody.

 


	4. Friends and Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aellana has made it to Whiterun. A chance encounter with an old friend may see her fortunes change.

"No vagrants!"

A Whiterun Guard stood menacingly in front of her. She looked down at her stained and torn riding clothes and tattered cloak and supposed she did look a little worse for wear.

"Please, I must get into the city."

"Not my problem, love. The city's got issues of its own. We don't need to add any beggars to the mix."

"I'm not a beggar," she countered, trying to think of a way to bluff her way in, "but I completely understand," she replied, doing her best to mask the anger as the answer came to her. "Please pass my regards onto Eorlund Gray-Mane." She turned to leave, affecting a casual air.

"Eorlund? Wait!" She turned, hiding her satisfied smile.

"Yes?"

"Eorlund Gray-Mane, you say?"

"Yes," she nodded, affecting a bored air. "I did some enchanting for him a few years ago and wanted to give him my regards while I was passing Whiterun." It was only a partial lie. She  _had_  done some enchanting for him a few years ago but had never met the man in person. The commission had come from one of her cousins rather than Eorlund himself. He'd know her name, but she'd not been to Whiterun since she was a child so he'd definitely not recognise her face.

"Well, I suppose we could make an exception this once. A friend of the Companions is a friend of ours," The guard nodded to his comrade, "right?"

Aellana nodded her thanks and flashed her sweetest smile as the two men let her pass, breathing a sigh of relief as the gates swung shut behind her. She'd finally made it. It was the safest she'd felt in over a week. The sun streamed down, despite the early hour, and she could feel the sweat building up under her already stained leathers. She was desperate for a bed and a bath, so picked her way through the winding streets to find the Bannered Mare. She'd stayed there with her father as a child, and the city had changed very little since then. She was sure she could find the way.

It was behind the market square, just where she remembered. The stall owners were setting up their wares for their first day of trade and barely spared her a glance. She didn't dare put the hood of her cloak up.  With the heat of the day it would look suspicious, but she also knew that her shock of white hair would be a dead giveaway as to her identity if there were any bounty hunters ready and waiting.

But the streets were quiet, and as she entered the inn, no one gave her a second glance. It was still early, so the tavern was quiet, with only a few patrons gathered to drink and converse at tables dotted around a central hearth. She recognised Hulda, the proprietor from when she was a girl, but saw no recognition in the woman's face, for which she was thankful.

Approaching the bar, Hulda gave Aellana a disdainful look.

"You look well travelled," she said, stating the obvious.

"I've had a long journey," Aellana countered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her dishevelled state. "If there is a room available and some water to bathe I would be very grateful."

"Aye, we've room. The cost is 100 septims, and I'll not charge you for the use of the washroom."

Aellana's face fell.  _100 septims_. That was more money that she'd left the manor house with, and what few valuables she had with her wouldn't fetch anywhere near that amount.

"I....maybe I'll just have some ale," she stammered out, and Hulda looked at her with pity.

"I tell you what," she countered, "I can't give you a room, but feel free to use the washroom at no charge. When you return, you can talk to me about finding work over that ale."

Aellana looked at the woman gratefully, thankful that she'd so deftly saved her from a potentially embarrassing situation. She gathered her pack and headed to the washroom, gratefully stripping off her filthy leathers, the bath already filled and waiting.

She sighed in relief as the warm water ran over her body, washing away the stink and grime of a week's worth of road dirt. She'd managed a cursory wash in rivers and pools under the cover of darkness, but she'd never let herself linger. She'd washed for hygiene only, rather than enjoyment. Sinking into the tub, Aellana let the tension ease from her body, her long hair flowing free in the water as she massaged her scalp.

"Lana?"

She sat up in the water, quickly wrapping her arms around her to hide her nakedness. She kept her back to the voice, the colour rising in her cheeks.

"Can I help you?" she managed to squeak out.

"I'm so sorry, I came for a wash, as Hulda doesn't usually let people in this early. I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just surprised it was you!"

She glanced over her shoulder at the hulking Nord to whom the deep, male voice belonged. Her eyes trailed up until they alighted on his face and recognition dawned.

"Thaiden!" She leapt up out of the bath, only remembering too late that she was completely naked.

Thaiden laughed and handed her a towel to cover herself. There was no embarrassment between the two of them. They'd been friends since childhood. He'd grown up on a neighbouring plantation, the son of a family with enough wealth and stature to ensure they were educated together. They'd had a romantic dalliance for a few years as teenagers, but life had taken them to very different places, and any romance they had was long in the past.

He had always been handsome. Thaiden was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with kind, blue eyes and a boyish grin. But the man before her now was so much more than the boy she used to know. He'd filled out, grown into his physique. Where his ash-blonde hair used to hang impishly into his face, he now kept it neatly tied in back with a leather thong that accentuated his broad jaw and expressive lips. She'd not seen him since a year or two before she had left for High Rock, but the easy companionship between them was immediate.

"By the Gods, Lana, what are you doing here? Your mother's sent word all over Skyrim. There are people looking for you everywhere."

She told him the whole story. Every emotion she'd experienced over the last week played clearly on his face as she recounted her tale. He hurt when she hurt, he feared when she feared, and when she told him of the bandits in the forest, he gathered her into his arms into an embrace so fierce it nearly knocked the breath from her. There, in his arms, was the safest she'd felt in what seemed like an age.

"They found the bandit camp yesterday," he said releasing her. "You're actually in luck," he grinned, "there was a bounty out on their leader."

"You mean, I won't be arrested?"

"No," Thaiden laughed, "the opposite in fact. You'll be paid!" Aellana breathed easier than she had in days as she looked at him gobsmacked. She wasn't a murderer then.

"That's the first bit of luck I've had since I returned home from High Rock," she gasped out, practically laughing with giddy relief.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?"

"I had planned on staying here, but I'm afraid my coin disagrees with that. I'm going to talk to Hulda about some work."

Aellana quickly dressed again and exited the washroom with Thaiden in tow. Hulda raised he eyebrows a little at that but said nothing. What individuals got up to in her inn was not her business, so long as it didn't interfere with the running of things.

"So, you're here to talk about work?" Aellana nodded gratefully. "The Jarl has some bounties if you don't mind mercenary work, and there are some rumours of activity up in Helgen which may net you some coin."

She'd never considered mercenary work. She knew how to fight, but it had been for reasons of tradition more than to ever see combat. Before a few days ago she'd never killed anyone, had never seen battle, but the reality was, she needed the coin, and she needed it fast. She thanked Hulda and turned to Thaiden to discuss her options. He saw the uncertainty in her eyes, and before she could say anything, he moved toward the door.

"Come with me, there are some people I'd like you to meet. How would you like to join me with the Companions?"

 

* * *

 

The mead hall of Jorrvaskr was as glorious as she'd heard. She knew of the Companions, an elite group of fighters who leant aid all around Skyrim in exchange for coin. As they entered, a Bosmer and a Nord were engaged in a close combat fist fight, surrounded by a crowd of people cheering them on. They fought well, and Aellana watched, entranced as the lithe, female Nord expertly ducked and twisted just out of reach of the male Bosmer's well-placed punches. It was over in minutes, the Nord emerging victorious, and as the crowd dispersed, Thaiden called over a dark-haired, musclebound Nord with a severe scowl and penetrating gaze.

"Vilkas," Thaiden said, clapping the large man on the shoulder in a show of companionship. "This is my friend Aellana. I was hoping she could stay with us for a few days?"

"Aellana?" Vilkas looked her up and down, lingering on her hair, reaching out to touch a strand as it floated around her face. "Ah, yes, the Evensnow girl."

She looked up with a start. How on earth did this man know who she was?

Vilkas turned to Thaiden. "She's worth a lot of money you know."

"We strive for honour, Vilkas. There is no honour in giving her over to the likes of Gunmar Jurgarinson, no matter how high the bounty."

"Don't worry, little pup," Vilkas soothed. "We won't turn her over. But we're not a charity either. If she stays, she joins, but," he looked up and down her petite frame once more and snorted with incredulity, "I don't hold out much hope that she'll make the cut."

"She's tougher than she looks."

"We'll see about that." Vilkas turned on his heel, speaking over his shoulder. "Let's head down and talk to Kodlak, and if he agrees, she can show me what she's made of."

Aellana didn't appreciate being spoken about as if she weren't there, but Thaiden gave her a knowing wink and pressed his finger to his lips. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear as they took some stairs down to the Jorrvaskr living quarters.

"Vilkas is full of his own bravado. Let him underestimate you." Aellana nodded in agreement seeing the benefits of the plan.

They entered an annexe, just off the main hallway where an old man sat alone, engrossed in one of the many tomes that dotted the shelves surrounding him. As they entered he glanced up, surprised to find his peace disturbed.

"Thaiden, Vilkas, what can I do for you?"

"This young pup," Vilkas sneered, pointing at Aellana," think she has what it takes to be a Companion."

The man who Aellana supposed was Kodlak looked up at her face, taking her in.

"And why do you wish to join?" he asked her. Aellana considered which answer to give for a moment, but decided that honestly, in this case, would serve her better than an impressive story of a drive for heroism.

"I've had some recent tragedy in my life and have had to flee from my family. I have no money, no belongings, no home, but I do have skill with magic and a blade. The Companions are honourable. If I'm to fight for money, I would like it to be in aid of something good, that will serve Skyrim, and not for self-gratification."

Kodlak nodded sagely. He seemed impressed by her words, and she could hear Vilkas grumble in incredulity beside her. As she looked at him, he rolled his eyes.

After only a moments consideration Kodlak replied. "Very well. Vilkas, please test our recruit." Turning back to Aellana he added, "If he's impressed with how you handle yourself, you may join us."

"Kodlak?" The disbelief in Vilkas' voice was unmistakable. "Are you sure?"

"I see great potential here, Vilkas. She may yet surprise you."

 

* * *

 

A small crowd gathered in the training yard as Vilkas led Aellana and Thaiden out into the sunshine. From the corner of her eye, she could see clandestine bets being taken. She was sure most would be betting against her and was not surprised when Thaiden excused himself to join one of the groups in the corner, a grin splitting his features as he learned the odds. He'd seen both Vilkas and Aellana fight, he knew where he'd be putting his money.

"No magic allowed. If we fight, we fight man to man." Aellana raised an eyebrow. "So to speak," Vilkas added.

Someone from the sidelines threw her a sword. It was light, evenly balanced, and she was not surprised to see that it was Thaiden who'd thrown it to her. He knew how she fought best.

Like the children of most of the noble houses of Skyrim, she'd been taught to use a blade. She and Thaiden had had the same instructor and had trained together at every opportunity. While she had assumed she'd never need to use the skill, she'd enjoyed the physicality of it, learning the movements, just like a dance. She and Thaiden had sparred together for most of their childhood, and while he was bigger and had more power behind his arm, she was faster, lighter on her feet. More often than not she'd emerged victorious. But this was not a friendly sparring match. This was a fight for her very existence. If she failed to impress here, she had nowhere else to go. She'd not handled a blade in years, choosing instead to focus on her magical training, and she could only hoped the skill had not left her.

Without warning, Vilkas lunged, and Aellana only just managed to jump out of the way of the blade as it slashed beside her ear. He circled her, with predatory laughter bubbling from his lips. As he circled he jabbed in her direction at regular intervals, hoping to spook her into lunging too soon. Aellana smiled, she knew the tactic and neededn't have worried, this was going to be easier than she thought.

Thaiden had been right to let Vilkas underestimate her. He was sloppy and wasn't taking her seriously which left him wide open to attack. She observed his lunges for a few more moments, memorising the movement of his arm as she expertly ducked away from his blade every time it swung toward her. Once she had an opening she quickly spun around his body, and before he'd registered where she'd gone, she swept his leg out from underneath him, winding him as he landed heavily on his back, holding her blade to his throat from her vantage above him. The fight was over in less than a minute, and she'd barely needed to raise her sword.

The crowd that had gathered were silent for a few moments before erupting into cheers. A number of them walked up to Thaiden, angrily shoving coin pouches into his hands, and as she looked over to him, he gave her a wink.

Aellana reached down to offer Vilkas her hand, which he took, a squeezing a little too hard.

"Welcome to the Companions," he said curtly, turning on his heel and stalking off into the hall.

 

* * *

 

"I knew you had it in you, Lana," Thaiden grinned as he offered her half of the winnings. Aellana took it gratefully, sinking down onto the bed behind her.

Thaiden had taken her straight back down to the living quarters, realising how exhausted she must be, showing her where the recruits slept. The room was rather spartan, but the bed was clean and more than she'd had in over a week, so she was grateful for it.

"I don't think Vilkas is any more predisposed to like me because of it."

"Don't worry about Vilkas. He doesn't like anybody."

"I can certainly imagine that's true," Aellana replied, laughing. Thaiden allowed himself a chuckle as well, before sobering and sitting down at the end of the bed and looking pointedly at her.

"You're a Companion now Lana, and we look after our own. But you still have a bounty on your head, so please, be careful out there."

"I will Thaiden, don't worry."

He took her hand in his own, considering something for a moment.

"Would you let me come with you, wherever you go next? We could split any payments we receive, and I can help keep you safe."

"Are you sure you want to do that? I wouldn't want you to be saddled with a damsel in distress."

Thaiden laughed at that. "You are not now, nor will you ever be a damsel in distress." Aellana smiled despite herself. "To be honest, I'd welcome the company. It's lonely on the road alone, and a cut in my earnings will be well worth staving off the boredom of days alone in the wilderness."

"Well, if you're sure it's what you want, then I accept."

Thaiden smiled and moved to the doorway.

"Where to first?"

"I thought we could follow up that lead in Helgen."


	5. Return to Helgen

"Aellana Evensnow, eh?" Eorlund Grey-Mane looked her up and down. "I thought your hair would be...whiter."

She'd dyed it raven black that morning with the help of Aela, a senior member of the Companions who she suspected knew a thing or two about remaining anonymous. The two women had giggled and gossiped as they waited for the colour to set, the sound drawing out Farkas, who had lumbered into the room to see what all the commotion was about. Aellana had started up, thinking the man entering was Vilkas, but Aela had explained that they were twins. Despite his size, Farkas was gentle and kind and seemed genuinely interested in their conversation. She had the feeling that he didn't have many people to talk to here, as his personality seemed so at odds with that of his brother.

As Aela had washed the excess colour out of her hair over a basin, Vilkas had stormed in, apparently looking for his brother. As Aellana had sat up, he'd gone silent, staring at her. The silence had stretched on for an uncomfortable length of time, and it took Aela clearing her throat and asking what it is that he wanted to break it. He'd barked an order that Aellana was needed at the Skyforge and had promptly escaped the room, Farkas following him quickly with an apologetic shrug.

So here she was, standing before Eorlund in the world famous Skyforge, receiving her first non-ceremonial set of armour made just for her.

"I remember your work, Aellana. You have a fine talent for enchanting." She inclined her head in thanks at the compliment.

"Good morning!" a cheery voice sounded from behind her, and she turned to see Thaiden striding toward them. As he saw Aellana, he stopped dead in his tracks. "You look...."

"Different?" Aellana laughed.

"I was going to say, amazing!" She found herself blushing at the praise.

The armour that Eorlund had made hugged her figure closely but allowed her plenty of movement. She was clad head to toe in soft, black leather, a reinforced bodice protecting her vital organs and accentuating her figure over a simple, white shirt. It was comfortable and sturdy.

Thaiden walked up and took a strand of her hair in his hands, turning it this way and that, letting the light catch it as he surveyed the colour.

"It brings out your eyes."

Aellana found herself blushing again until Eorlund pointedly cleared his throat behind them.

"If that will be all?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, leading Thaiden to stifle a laugh behind his hand and Aellana to blush an even deeper crimson.

"Sorry, Eorlund," he said with a laugh, turning to Aellana. "You ready to go?"

She sheathed her sword at the expertly crafted weapons belt at her hip and nodded in assent. Helgen was days away. The sooner they left, the better.

 

* * *

 

The silence was deafening as they approached Helgen. The closer they got, the more the silence had grown until the only sound for miles was the crunch of their boots on the crisp, new snow.

"There's no animals, no birds," Aellana remarked, worry creeping into her voice.

"Something odd is going on here, and I don't like it." Thaiden pushed on ahead, but as he spoke, he raised his sword, preparing for the worst. Aellana found herself doing the same.

As they neared the gates a roar shook the ground beneath them, and they both looked up in horror as a dragon launched itself up and out of the keep, disappearing into the sky. The flapping of its powerful wings nearly toppled them off their feet. They looked at each other in open-mouthed awe before running full pelt toward the entrance to Helgen. There couldn't be many survivors of a dragon attack, but if there were, they'd need help, and fast.

The keep stood before them, quietly imposing. Its gates were shut fast, and it took a fair amount of strained pushing to open the heavy oak doors just wide enough for them to slip through. What met them on the other side left them speechless. 

The courtyard of the keep was gutted. Buildings had been incinerated, reduced to nothing but smouldering ash and rubble. Bodies were strewn about, burned beyond recognition. Men, women, children, it didn't matter. All had perished in a flame and fire. The dragon had been thorough.

"The escape tunnels!" Thaiden was already back out the gate and circumventing the walls. "My father told me about them years ago, from his days in the Imperial Army," he panted, clambering over rocks and sliding through snow drifts in his hurry to find whatever it was he was looking for. "If anyone got out they'd be coming through...there!" he shouted, and Aellana saw it too. A concealed cave entrance that led directly under the walls of Helgen keep.

The cave system was as silent as the keep itself had been, and that spark of hope in Thaiden's eyes fizzled out as quickly as it had appeared. They were so on edge that they nearly tripped over the man who lay crumpled on the path before them. It wasn't until Aellana felt a weak hand grab at her ankle, frightening her nearly to death, that they even noticed him.

"Why are you here?" the man coughed weakly.

"We heard rumours of dangerous activity in the area and came to lend aid."

"You need to get to Riverwood, now. They need to know what happened here. Please," he stuttered out. "You need to warn them!"

"I'm not leaving you here. You need help," Aellana countered as the walls of the cave shook suddenly, the ground trembling beneath their feet.

"Leave me," the man screamed. "Go! You have to warn them!"

"We're not going anywhere without you." Aellana shoved a healing potion into the man's hand which he downed in a single draught, while Thaiden lifted him up, draping the man's arm around his shoulder.

"Try to walk as best you can. Between the two of us, we'll get you out of here."

They stumbled back to the cave entrance, dodging falling debris, dragging the wounded Imperial Guard with them. The keep above must have been collapsing, bringing the entire cave system down with it. The tremors increased in magnitude, a rumbling roar building from above them as they stumbled into the white snow outside the cave's entrance not a moment too soon. Rocks and debris tumbled down behind them, blocking the entrance, completely sealing the tunnels.

They barely had a moment to breathe before the guard was forcing them on their feet again.

"The dragon, did you see the dragon? We have to go!"

Aellana put a comforting hand on his arm. "Shh, it's alright. We saw the dragon fly off just as we arrived. I don't think it's coming back."

"My uncle's a blacksmith in Riverwood, it's the closest town. We have to warn them about it!"

She nodded her assent, "We will, but you need a moment to rest and recover. We're not leaving you here, and we'll make better time if we don't have to carry you." She passed him another healing potion which he took gratefully.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome....?"

"Hadvar. My name's Hadvar."

"Well Hadvar, take your time. While you recover, why don't you tell us what happened?"

He took a deep swig from the flask of potion, and Thaiden handed him his waterskin to drown down the bitter taste. When he continued his voice was calmer and more measured.

"We'd caught Ulfric Stormcloak and a small contingency of Stormcloak rebels." He took another swig from the waterskin. "Just as we were about to execute him, the dragon attacked. It can't have been a coincidence."

Aellana doubted very much that the Stormcloak rebels had control of a dragon, but she wasn't going to argue with Hadvar after what he'd just been though.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said instead. "It must have been terrible."

"It came out of nowhere, destroyed everyone," his voice broke as he spoke, "showed no mercy. Myself and a few rebels made it into the caves, but they were picked off, one by one. If you hadn't come, I'd have died there too."

Neither Aellana or Thaiden could disagree with him there. They'd come to Helgen, expecting to find work but there'd be no payday for this trip. Neither of them was sorry they'd come, however. This man, his tale, and the huge dragon they'd just seen in the sky over Helgen would change everything. There was something coming. They could all feel it.

 

* * *

 

It was night by the time the trio made it to Riverwood. The blacksmith's forge was near the city gate, and they found him working late. Hadvar's uncle, Alvor, looked up as they approached, his beaming smile turning to worry as he saw how haggard his nephew looked, and how he winced in pain with almost every step.

"The dragon," he said by way of greeting, "you saw it."

Hadvar nodded his assent.

"You rescued him?" Alvor asked, turning to Aellana and Thaiden. "My family is in your debt. I thought I'd imagined the winged beast flying to the South, but now that you've confirmed it..." He shook his head in disbelief. "Riverwood is defenceless. We need to inform the Jarl of Whiterun to send aid!"

"We'll go," Aellana comforted the panicked Nord. "We're heading back that way as it is."

"Again, we are in your debt."

As they left the two men to their reunion, Thaiden reached out to stop her short.

"The Jarl?" he asked carefully. "Lana, are you sure?"

She nodded but felt far from sure. She'd wanted to avoid the Jarl of Whiterun. Going to him was a risk, and it could see her right back where she started, in the arms of Gunmar Jurgarinson. Her escape, joining the Companions, all of it would be for naught. But she had no choice. The threat of a dragon was bigger than her personal problems.

 

* * *

 

"You come to me, a fugitive from your own family, and expect me to believe this insane story of dragons attacking Helgen?" Jarl Balgruuf, the Greater of Whiterun, boomed out so loud that everyone in the great hall of Dragonsreach fell silent to listen to him chastise his goddaughter.

Despite not having seen him for years, and her drastic change in appearance, he'd recognised her immediately and made no secret of how he felt about her running away from home. This is precisely why Aellana hadn't come to him to begin with. He'd always been close to her mother. The two had grown up together, and there had even been rumours of a betrothal before Sigrund had fallen pregnant. While the Jarl had accepted Aellana's explanation, and after fifteen minutes of precious time wasted pleading he'd agreed not to tell her mother where she was. But, believing her story about the Dragon seemed to be the last straw for him.

"The story is true, my liege," Thaiden interjected. "Alvor, the blacksmith at Riverwood, will confirm it."

"I am disappointed in you, Thaiden. Neither you nor Alvor is usually given to such flights of fancy. Are you sure this wasn't just some Stormcloak raid gone wrong?"

"We saw the dragon with our own eyes, Uncle Bal. It's real." He whipped his head in Aellana's direction as she spoke, opening his mouth as if to chastise her again.

"My lord, if I may interject?" A petite Dunmer stepped forward, interrupting their proceedings.

"What is it, Irileth?"

"It wouldn't hurt to send a small contingent to Riverwood in order to determine the truth of these stories. It will ensure that those in the town know we take their well-being seriously, and won't deplete our forces too much in case of an attack on the city. And if there  _is_  a dragon," she looked pointedly at Aellana, "then the townsfolk will need as much protection as we can offer."

"A sound plan Irileth. Send a detachment to Riverwood at once." The Dunmer bowed low and strode purposefully from the room. "And you, goddaughter. If your words are true, then you've done Whiterun a great service, and my people are in your debt. You took a great personal risk to bring me this news in person." Aellana bowed and moved to excuse herself. Balgruuf held up a hand to stop her. "But, if your story proves false, so help me, I will drag you back to your mother's house myself and host your wedding to Jurgarinson in this very hall."

Aellana nodded curtly and strode from the hall, eager to escape the stares that followed her. So far her attempts at concealing her identity were coming to very little. But she trusted her godfather, and he trusted his household. If he promised not to reveal her whereabouts, she would choose to believe him.

As they neared the door, she and Thaiden were halted by a Nord in mages robes who beckoned for them to follow. They trailed after him in confusion as he entered a study crammed with books, soul gems, alchemy and enchanting supplies.

"I have a task for you," he said absent-mindedly. "There have been rumours of dragons for some time, and your story has just confirmed it. I have to know where the dragons went so long ago, and where they're coming from now."

"And how does this involve us?" Aellana asked in confusion.

"There is an ancient Nord burial site not far from Riverwood called Bleak Falls Barrow. In it, there is a tablet called the Dragonstone. It is rumoured to be a map of dragon burial sites."

"I can see why that would be important."

"It is invaluable to my research, even more so now that a dragon attack may be imminent. The Jarl will reward you once you return, I'll make sure of it."

And that was that. They found themselves on the road back to Riverwood, seeking out dragon artefacts. This was a turn of events that Aellana could never have predicted, but it gave her purpose. Despite the hardships she'd endured until this point, she felt like her life had meaning, and she revelled in it.

The snow had started not long after they'd left Riverwood. It fell in thick, wet flurries concealing everything other than what stood just a few metres in front of them. Aellana pulled her cloak closer, trying to keep out the chill, and she could see Thaiden beside her, shivering in his furs.

They climbed higher and higher, the snow getting heavier until she heard Thaiden gasp beside her. She'd been keeping her eyes downcast to keep the snow from blinding her, but as she looked up, she widened her eyes in awe.

Towering above them was a tomb, unlike anything she'd ever seen. A large stone staircase plunged upward into an interlacing network of crumbling pillars and arches, creating a sense of space bigger than even the great hall of Dragonsreach. Ancient Nord statuary stood guard along the outer edges, and Aellana snuggled further into her cloak, blaming the cold, but realising her unease was due to more than just the weather.

The barrow was as silent as the grave, which seemed appropriate since that's precisely what it was. Even the snow flurries seemed to mute their sound in the presence of this hulking monolith, and Aellana felt a profound reverence for the artistry of a culture that could build something like this. Burial practices now were more straightforward, less monumental, and she could see why. It would have taken a lifetime to construct something like this.

They approached the entrance, their path blocked by two imposing iron doors, intricately decorated with an intertwining pattern of dragons and Nordic runes. The doors creaked open slowly at the slightest touch, almost as if the barrow had been waiting for them, letting them into a large, crumbling entrance hall. Despite the decay in the room, it was warm, and the snow seemed not to settle here. She and Thaiden shared a look and, swallowing their fear, crept down into the bowels of the tomb.

But, they weren't as alone as they had initially thought. In a matter of minutes, they came up behind a group of bandits who seemed just as shocked to see them as they were. They froze for a moment, one group staring at the other, and Aellana found herself unable to move. She flashed back to the bandits in Nilheim and began to tremble.

"Easy Lana, you've got this," came Thaiden's soothing voice from just behind her. But she couldn't do it. She was frozen to the spot.

One of the bandits noticed it and began to laugh, his lip curling in a sneer as he jabbed his companion in the ribs to let him in the joke.

That was all the push Aellana needed, and with a cry, she ran forward skewering the first man before he had time to react. Thaiden wasn't far behind, beheading the second in one practised swoop of his sword, wiping the blade clean on the dead man's furs. She calmed herself, doing the same, and took a few deep breaths.

"Does it ever get any easier?" she asked quietly.

"The killing?" he enquired, looking at her pointedly. "I'd like to say it doesn't, but that would be a lie. It's easier every time." He sighed deeply.

"Good," she replied with steely determination, stopping to loot the coins and other valuables from the bodies of the dead bandits, before striding off into the cave system in search of the Dragonstone. Thaiden sighed and followed after her. This is not a life he would have ever wished on his dearest friend, and he prayed to the gods that it wouldn't change her.

They moved deeper into the cavern, dispatching Bandits as they went, looting what valuables they could. They managed to avoid traps, and Aellana proved herself resourceful at finding her way through even the most complicated of locking mechanisms. Thaiden had to admit to himself that he was impressed. For her first dungeon raid, she was doing very well, her confidence growing the lower they went. The dirt, skeevers, and spiders didn't seem to bother her, and she took them all in her stride, hacking and slashing her way expertly through the winding corridors. By the time the dead began rising, she was shooting fireballs at them with ease, incinerating them before they even got close. As he came up beside her he saw her eyes gleaming with an inner flame, and she smiled at him, revelling in the overwhelming joy of being alive.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and it wasn't long before Thaiden found himself enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with doing something important. They were explorers, delving into places that few would ever see. They were liberators, ridding the world of one evil at a time. They were relic hunters, bringing Skyrim's history back to the people. He thanked whatever Gods were out there for bringing Aellana back into his life. She'd renewed his sense of purpose and had given him a pride in his work that he'd never felt before.

Finally, they reached their goal. The sanctum lay behind a complicated lock that Aellana made light work of, using a dragon-claw shaped key they'd looted from the body of a thief who'd fallen prey to the many spiders that inhabited the barrow. The door creaked open and when they entered they both stood awestruck at the scene before them.

The room was cavernous; so vast you could likely fit all of Riverwood inside it. Giant pillars rose up to the crumbling ceiling through which light filtered down, setting the dust particles in the air to sparkle like little diamonds. Ancient carvings adorned the walls, and burial urns lay scattered about, ripe for looting.

"Wow," Aellana heard Thaiden whisper with awe from her side, and she couldn't have agreed more.  It seemed redundant, and yet no other word felt right for the sheer size of the place.

They slowly made their way to the back of the cavern. If the Dragonstone was anywhere, neither of them were in any doubt that this would be the place. But, as they got deeper into the cavern, Aellana felt something stirring at the edge of her consciousness. She heard voices, ancient whispers that seemed to be drawing her forward.

"Lana?" Thaiden asked, his voice thick with concern.

"The voices, can you hear them?"

He shook his head. "I can't hear anything. Are you sure you're alright?"

But she wasn't listening. The voices were getting louder, pulling her further into the cavern, toward a light that seemed to be glowing on a far wall. She lost track of her surroundings, the voices filled her, and she had eyes for nothing but the light that was drawing her forward. The closer she got, the brighter the glow and the louder the voices until it was all she could hear, see, or feel.

Suddenly they reached a peak crescendo, the light pulsed with a blinding brightness that left her dizzy and subsided as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving only one word in its place.  **FUS.**

Thaiden was at her side within moments, concern showing on his face.

"What just happened? Are you alright?"

Aellana shook herself, shaking her head from side to side to push herself through the hazy blur that seemed to have taken over her brain.

"It was nothing," she shrugged off her companion's concern. "Let's get what we came for and get out of here. I think I've had enough of the stench of death for one day," giving him a reassuring smile, which he seemed to accept.

They rummaged through the last of the chests in the cavern, finding the Dragonstone on the body of a Draugr Overlord who almost managed to sneak up behind them. As they prepared to exit the cave, Aellana allowed herself one, last look at the place where the voices had overwhelmed her.

She couldn't quite place it, but she felt somehow different. Expectant. Something big was coming, she could feel it in her bones. Something within her had shifted. She was now more than what she had been just a few short hours ago.

As the pair headed back toward Whiterun, she felt a sense of her own destiny.  _Skyrim is changing,_ she thought, _and I'm going to play a part in it_.


	6. Rise of the Dragonborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a dragon attacks close to Whiterun, Aellana will find her life forever changed, and she and Thaiden will discover a new side of themselves.

"You've returned!"

Farengar seemed genuinely surprised as Aellana and Thaiden strode back into Dragonsreach. Neither of them was sure whether to be offended or amused by that, so they shared a wry look, Thaiden arching his eyebrow at Aellana while she suppressed a giggle. The mage barely gave them another glance as he took the Dragonstone, muttering to himself as he looked over its ancient and weathered surface, eyes glowing with excitement.

Jarl Balgruuf joined them in Farengar's study as he made his way to the desk to inspect the stone more closely. Farengar's movements were erratic in their excitement, and Balgruuf had to reach out a hand to still the trembling mage and get him to focus.

"What have they brought us, Farengar?"

"It's everything I had hoped, my Jarl! My research was right; this gives the locations of all of Skyrim's dragon burial mounds." His eyes were moving quickly over the surface of the stone, covered in ancient writing that looked like chicken scratchings to Aellana but seemed to have a profound effect on the mage.

"What does this mean?" Aellana asked, pointing at the text.

"It's written in the ancient Dragon Tongue," Farengar explained. "See here?" He pointed at the first patterns of lines and indents. "Each block is a word; a pattern of lines and niches represents the letters. It's beautiful in its simplicity."

"But what does it say?" Aellana clarified.

"Oh, of course, my apologies." Farengar began sounding out the words slowly, concentrating as he tried to decipher the fading script. After a few moments, he seemed to have worked it out. "Here lie our fallen lords until the power of Alduin revives." Farengar furrowed his brow in confusion as he read the text out loud.

"Do you know what that means?"

"No, I'm sorry. I'll need to do more research before I can make sense of its meaning."

The Jarl opened his mouth as if to speak, but was interrupted by a commotion from outside in the great hall. The doors were pushed open letting in a gust of cold air, while screaming could be heard in the distance and shouts of concern and worry rang through the crowd that was slowly gathering to see what all the fuss was about.

"The Jarl, where is he?" Aellana recognised the voice of Irileth, Balgruuf's Housecarl. A spectator must have pointed her in the right direction as it was only a few moments later that she burst into the study with a young guard in tow, falling into a hurried bow.

"Irileth? What is the meaning of this?" The Jarl's concern was tinged with annoyance as he frowned at the scene she was creating. Whatever it was, it looked serious, and Irileth's means of entry was sure to cause a panic among the populace who were already on edge, expecting a Stormcloak raid any day.

"I apologise for the intrusion, Jarl, but this young man has grave news."

The young guard bowed deeply, but his eyes were wild, and his body trembled as he straightened, his head darting to and fro as if looking around for danger.

"Well, boy? Spit it out!"

"D-dragon," the young man stuttered. "Flying up from the South. It attacked the garrison stationed at the Watchtower."

"Are you sure?" The Jarl stared in shock at the young man's words, unwilling to countenance the return of the dragons, especially after he'd so publicly chastised his goddaughter for what he thought were wild tales created in an attempt to weasel out of an unfavourable marriage.

"Please, my lord, send help. The other men," the young man swallowed, keeping his panic in check, "they'll be overrun if you don't send aid."

Balgruuf hesitated only a moment longer before he began barking orders. He summoned his advisers and sent Irileth to gather the guards before turning to the young man who'd brought the news.

"Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it."

The young man nodded in gratitude, walking away as Balgruuf finally turned to Aellana and Thaiden who were already making themselves ready to join the guard at the watchtower.

"I owe you an apology Aellana. If the dragons truly have returned you did me a great service by bringing me that news. I am sorry to have doubted you."

"It's not important," she shrugged off his concern. "Your city is your priority."

Balgruuf inclined his head in thanks at Aellana's graciousness.

"We'll join the guard. We're the only people in Whiterun who have seen a dragon so far. Maybe we can help."

"I am in your debt," the Jarl enveloped her in a huge hug, before turning to Thaiden and pumping his hand enthusiastically in thanks. "I have property here in the city that is yours when you return," he added, turning back to Aellana. "You have the protection of this city now, and your mother will never hear of your whereabouts from me or any of my subjects on pain of death."

They both nodded their thanks as they gathered their weapons and headed for the door. Irileth wasn't far in front of them, but they'd have to hurry if they were to catch up with the other guards. 

 

* * *

 

Aellana had never considered that stone could burn so hot, or so brightly. The watchtower was reduced to rubble, flames still burning in patches here and there. But there was no sign of the dragon.

"Spread out!" Irileth called to the guards. "Look for survivors."

Thaiden and Aellana braved the tower itself which still smouldered at its base but seemed to have remained largely intact, clambering over the broken staircase to reach the doorway.

"Get back," a voice shouted at them from just inside the entryway. "Please, it took Tor. It will return!"

Almost as if on schedule, a great roar sounded in the distance. They looked up into the sky, dropping down from the tower entrance as the guards below scrambled to find some rubble behind which they could take shelter.

"There!" one of the guards shouted, pointing to the sky as the beast descended on the remains of the watchtower. The powerful beat of its wings nearly blew them all off balance as the darkly scaled monster circled tantalisingly just overhead.

Some of the guards had already readied bows and arrows and were futilely shooting them at the dragon's armoured carapace. Most of the shots missed, but the few that hit bounced harmlessly off the creature's hide, and Aellana could have sworn she heard it laugh.

Focusing herself, she let her power centre, her hand crackling with electricity as she readied a lightning spell. She poured all her strength into it as she let the beam of lightning burst from her hand. It flew straight, colliding with the belly of the beast, making it rear up with a cry of pain and anger.

The fight had begun. The dragon ducked and dove, spitting fire at the ground in great arcs, leaving the earth pitted and scarred wherever it touched. Men and women dove out of the way, sending arrows flying into the dragon's hide as they went. One guard was too slow and was incinerated where he stood, his body engulfed in white, hot flame and disintegrating to ash within seconds. Aellana threw bolt after bolt of lightning into the dragon's flesh until finally, through a combined effort, they weakened it too much to remain airborne.

The dragon landed with a loud thud as it collided clumsily with the earth, its wings flapping uselessly at its side. Another guard who was foolish enough to run directly at the dragon's face was incinerated by a blast of fiery breath. Everyone else learned quickly that to approach the dragon head on meant death, and Thaiden and Aellana ran at it from the side, swords raised and voices crying out for battle.

Thaiden ducked as the Dragon whipped its head toward him, nearly toppling him with the force of the movement. It thrashed and spat, trying to fight off the rest of the guards who had fallen upon it with swords and axes. Aellana swung herself onto the creature's neck, holding on as it bucked and twisted, trying to dislodge her. She barely registered Thaiden's cry of alarm as she righted herself, pelting full force toward the creature's head, and plunging her sword right between its eyes.

The dragon cried out in pain, shaking its head so violently that Aellana nearly went flying. She hung onto the sword still embedded in the creature's flesh for dear life, and as it stilled she wrenched it free and plunged again, and again, and again until the dragon quietened, it's breathing becoming shallower.

As they all watched, the beast began to glow. Thaiden and the guards slowly backed away, and Aellana removed her sword and leapt from the creature's head. The glow intensified, and rather than retreating with the rest, she found herself drawn forward, her head filling with voices, just as it had in Bleak Falls Barrow. As the glow reached its peak, and the dragon burst into flame she could have sworn she heard its death scream.

**"Dovakhiin? No!** **"**

She reached out a hand, and as she did, the voices in her head screamed in unison as the heat rushed directly toward her, engulfing her completely. It should have been painful, but it wasn't. The heat was there, but it barely seemed to register as she felt herself fill with some unknown force. It made her skin tingle and her breath hitch in her throat as she swelled with ecstasy so beyond anything she'd ever experienced that she cried out the only word that came into her head at that moment.

 **"FUS!**   **"**

It was over in seconds, the feeling leaving her as quickly as it had come. Thaiden was at her side almost immediately, checking her over for burns or other signs of hurt. She waved him off, assuring him she was alright and as she stood, she realised that instead of the celebration she would have expected to hear at their victory, there was nothing but silence.

Aellana turned toward the soldiers behind her. They stood staring, dumbfounded at what they'd just witnessed. The look in their eyes was a mixture of fear, awe and desire, and Aellana looked at Thaiden for an explanation. But even he was looking at her as if this were the first time he'd ever seen her.

"I can't believe it," one of the guards started forward. "You're Dragonborn!"

"Dragonborn?" Aellana looked at the man in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The tales are ancient, from a time when dragons were still seen in Skyrim. The Dragonborn would slay them and steal their power. That's what you did, isn't it?" The man looked back to the dragon, of which only bones in to. "Absorbed the dragon's power?"

"I don't know what just happened to me," Aellana countered, her heart fluttering as she remembered the feeling of the dragon's heat flowing through her.

"I heard you shout," another guard said as he stepped toward her. "If you can do it again we'll know for sure."

She looked at Thaiden who just shrugged. He didn't understand any of this, but he could see that something in Aellana was different. She turned back to the guards and set her mind to the moment of ecstasy, trying to recall the word that had come to her then. It flickered at the edge of her consciousness at first, just out of reach, but she focused her mind, concentrated, and then it came. She opened her eyes, and let the shout release.

 **"FUS!**   **"**

The guards directly in front of her staggered, hit by the force of her Voice. They began to whisper, staring at her as they did so, voices slowly rising in excitement. Snatches of conversation came her way. Words like _dragon_  and _legend_. There hadn't been any dragons in Skyrim in living memory, so all the tales were old. Aellana didn't know what to think or believe at that moment.

Thaiden leaned close and with a whisper suggested they should go back to Whiterun. With a nod, she acquiesced, and the two picked their way over the debris, leaving the remaining guards to their gossip.

As they neared the road leading back into the city, Thaiden suddenly burst out laughing. Aellana turned to him in surprise, which only made him laugh more. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, and her thoughts were whirling through her head at such a pace that his laughter confused her and she looked at him quizzically.

"We just killed a fucking dragon!" he panted out between fits of laughter. Then it dawned on her too. They were lucky to be alive. They'd taken on one of the first dragons seen in Skyrim in living memory and lived to tell the tale. Her eyes widened, relief flooding her at the thought of making it through a defining moment that had brought them so close to death.

"We're alive," she breathed, stepping closer and putting a hand on Thaiden's chest to steady herself. His laughter stilled almost immediately, and he stared at her for a split second before he took her head in his hands, crushing her to his mouth in a desperate kiss.

Aellana gave a surprised yelp as his teeth grazed roughly against her bottom lip, and he quickly pulled away, blushing with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry, Lana. I don't know what came over me."

But Aellana knew. She felt it too. She felt light, and free, and desperate to affirm her continued existence. They'd just survived a dragon attack, and she'd never before felt so alive! Every nerve was strung as tight as a bowstring, ready to release at any second, the adrenaline coursing through their veins accentuating every need.

Without a word, Aellana pushed herself back into Thaiden's arms. He needed no further prompting as his mouth met hers, still hungry and greedy to taste her and feel her against him.

Locked at the lips, they slowly backed away from the side of the road toward a rocky outcropping a few steps away from where they stood, shedding their clothes as they walked, not caring who might pass. Their kissing was frantic and demanding as they gave rise to their more animal instincts, guided by need alone.

Aellana grunted as Thaiden slammed her against the rock wall. He moaned against her mouth as he lifted her legs to circle his hips, raising his hands to tear at her bindings, letting her breasts tumble free and into his waiting palms. She felt him stiffen beneath her as she bucked her hips forward, tightening her legs to pull him closer, taking in his taste and his scent as she tangled her hands in his hair.  She mewled with pleasure as he bent his head down to take one of her breasts in his mouth, flicking his tongue against an already hardened nipple, lowering her just long enough to divest themselves of the last of their clothing.

They stood before each other, naked, bodies pressed as close as possible, a single being of sweat and need.  With desperation, Aellana reached between them, guiding Thaiden toward her entrance where he sheathed himself with one quick, forceful thrust.  He slammed her back against the rocks neither of them thinking of the pain as he pushed into her, again and again. She steadied herself against him, matching his rhythm with her hips as they both took their pleasure, wild and animalistic.

Her breathing came fast and ragged as she reached her climax, hearing Thaiden do the same. She gave him a quick squeeze to let him know that she was ready, and they both screamed their desire in unison as he spilled himself deep within her with one last, forceful thrust. As she crested the wave of her orgasm, she could have sworn she felt the world shake, the air crackling with the lingering sound of one word:  **Dovahkiin**.

As Thaiden withdrew he collapsed against her, leaning his forehead against hers as they both caught their breath.

"That was..."

"I know."


	7. To Catch a Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grateful Jarl gives Aellana a generous gift which changes her fortunes. While stopping off in Riverwood on their way to High Hrothgar, she and Thaiden meet a mysterious stranger outside the Sleeping Giant Inn.

"What happened at the Watchtower? Was the dragon there?"

Thaiden and Aellana had barely made it through the front gates of Dragonsreach before the Jarl, and his steward accosted them. They were quickly ushered into the hall while the Jarl's household tried not to stare and eavesdrop. Many of them had friends and family in the city guard, so they waited for news of their loved ones, desperate to see who would return.

"I'm sorry Uncle Bal," Aellana began as he led them to the end of the large table that dominated the throne room as servants brought food and wine, "but it destroyed everything." Balgruuf's face fell, so she quickly added, "we did manage to kill it, though."

He was clearly relieved. While losing the watchtower was a blow, especially in the current political climate of Skyrim, the knowledge that there wouldn't be a dragon swooping down to burn his city to the ground was definitely good news. He was about to call the Steward over with more wine to propose a celebratory toast, so he almost missed Aellana's whispered addendum.

"When it died, I... absorbed some kind of...power, from it."

Balgruuf turned to stare at his goddaughter. He had felt the hall shake a few, brief hours ago, had heard the cry from the mountains that had cut into his soul. His parents had told him stories of the Dragonborn, but he'd never thought to meet one in his lifetime. Hearing Aellana admit she'd absorbed something from the dragon, he couldn't think of any other explanation. His goddaughter; the Dragonborn. He could never have predicted this.

"So it's true then. The Greybeards have summoned you to High Hrothgar."

"The Greybeards?" Aellana looked at Balgruuf quizzically. Most of her life she'd heard Breton folktales and songs from her father. Sigrund had never taken the time to tell her daughter stories, so her knowledge of the mythology and traditions of the Nords of Skyrim was unfortunately somewhat lacking, despite having grown up there.

"They are the Masters of the Voice."

He didn't seem inclined to elaborate on that, and she found herself embarrassed by her ignorance, so instead just asked, "but why me?"

"If you truly absorbed the dragon's power as you say, then you are Dragonborn. The Greybeards are uniquely versed in use of the Voice. If you are what I suspect, they are the only ones who can train you."

"Train me for what? I have no interest in being this Dragonborn!" This was all too much, and she heard her voice rising in panic. How could she, Aellana Evensnow, be some mythical Dragonborn? A few, short, weeks ago she'd been happily studying magic in High Rock, a nobody mage with no future plans other than joining the family business. Since returning to Skyrim, she'd nearly died more times than she cared to count, become destitute, was almost raped by a man with whom she was being forced into marriage, killed a dragon, and lost her father. But being this Dragonborn? No, that was taking the ridiculousness of the last few weeks to a new level.

"We don't always get to choose our destiny in life, Aellana. Sometimes our destiny finds us."

Balgruuf placed a soothing hand on her arm. The girl had been through so much, and with no support thus far. The Jarl was already consumed by guilt at his distrust of her when she'd first arrived, and she was not the hardened warrior he'd always assumed a Dragonborn to be. What lay ahead would test her limits, but he'd not leave her to face it alone.

She took a large draught from her wine goblet, trying to calm herself. "Perhaps they didn't summon me? How do you know?"

"Did you hear the roar as you returned from the watchtower?"

Aellana heard Thaiden choke on his wine behind her, and tried to keep her voice and eyes steady. She felt the colour rise to her cheeks as she recalled the exact moment she  _had_  heard the roar. Just as she and Thaiden had reached their climax, sating their desire by the roadside as she had shouted her release to the sky.

"I think we might have heard something like that...yes." She heard the tremor in her voice, and couldn't meet the Jarl's eyes as she heard Thaiden giggle nervously over her shoulder.

News of the moment she and Thaiden had shared by the roadside hadn't reached him yet, but there had been witnesses. She could only hope that any observers would be kind enough to show discretion. Merchants travelling up and down the road to and from Whiterun had heard them. Irileth and the guards had only been a few metres away off the main thoroughfare and had undoubtedly heard them, if not directly witnessed their coupling, although she was sure that they would remain discreet.

At the time she and Thaiden had both been so overwhelmed by surviving the dragon attack that they'd felt like the only two people in the world. The feeling of power that had washed over her as the dragon died had left her feeling invincible, desperate to feel as alive as possible. She'd recognised the same look in Thaiden's eyes as he'd pulled her into that kiss. They'd given into that feeling, not caring who saw or heard them. But, in the aftermath, there had been a rather awkward fumbling for clothes, a few pointed stares from passers-by, and a long walk back to the keep in uncomfortable silence, unable to make eye contact for the long walk home.

"Well, whatever happened with the dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it." Aellana snapped herself out of her memories and tried to focus on the conversation at hand as the Jarl continued. "You should go to High Hrothgar. If they think you're the Dragonborn, who are we to argue? More unbelievable things than this have happened in the last few days, and I'll not be caught doubting again."

Aellana snorted. "You're not wrong there," she agreed. With a life that had already been so turned around by recent events, she found herself unable and unwilling to argue with it anymore. "I suppose if there are dragons again, then why not a Dragonborn?"

"Rest for a day or two," he advised. "It is a great honour to be called to High Hrothgar, and the road leading to the Throat of the World is treacherous." As he spoke, he beckoned the Steward over, who handed him a heavy, brass key and a stack of papers. "I promised to keep you safe, and I meant it. Here is the key to Breezehome, a property I own in lower Whiterun. It's yours."

Aellana looked at her godfather in awe. She knew the property. It was one of the most desirable in the whole city and was worth a small fortune.

"I can't possibly accept this!"

"Nonsense," he waved his hand dismissively before beckoning a woman over with another wave. She was tall and well built with a serious expression, wearing the armour of the city guard. She bowed before the Jarl, who turned back to Aellana. "For all you've done for Whiterun, I am naming you Thane and have transferred ownership of Breezehome to you. Lydia will be your personal Housecarl, and ensure your safety while you reside here."

Lydia turned to Aellana and bowed deeply. "It is a pleasure to serve you, my Thane."

Aellana was speechless. Jarl Balgruuf had just made her a very wealthy and influential woman in Whiterun. Her fortunes seemed to turn on a dime, jumping from the worst of luck to the very best. She wasn't free of danger yet, but the Jarl had ensured that she had the means to keep herself safe, hidden, and protected. Without a second thought, she flung herself into his arms in thanks. He was surprised at first, but returned the embrace, smiling into her hair as he counted himself lucky to call her family.

 

* * *

 

Aellana threw her pack to the floor as she surveyed her new home. Breezehome was a large property set back from Whiterun's main road. It had been beautifully renovated with a perfectly manicured garden out the front, in which a statue of Dibella stood, a nod to the Jarl's Evensnow ties. Where most homes in Skyrim had a central hearth for cooking and warmth, Breezehome sported a fireplace, allowing the smoke of the fire to escape the room, leaving more living space to enjoy.

The home was fully furnished, and she suspected that it had been renovated for one of the Jarl's mistresses. This house was used to keeping secrets, so she felt confident that it could also keep hers. Lydia had already made her way to the Housecarl's quarters downstairs, excusing herself politely. Aellana did not doubt that the woman would perform her duty to the death, but she also couldn't help feeling that she didn't like her very much either.

She collapsed in exhaustion onto one of the padded benches by the fireplace, motioning for Thaiden to do the same.

"Lana," he began, shuffling his feet nervously as he sat down opposite her. "About what happened at the Watchtower..."

"Was it that bad?" Aellana tried to laugh off the tension the lay between them, but she also realised they needed to talk about it.

"No!" Thaiden's eyes darted upward. "No, it was...amazing."

"But?"

"But, I don't think we should make a habit of it."

She'd been expecting it, and she couldn't say she wasn't relieved. They'd slept together before, so this was nothing new. Not only had they courted for a time as teenagers, but they'd had a friendship that strayed into the physical from time to time. Trying to navigate anything romantic right now would have been far too much for her to handle when what she really needed was a friend.

"You're my best friend Thaiden," she admitted, voicing the words for the first time. "You mean more to me than anyone else in the world, now that my father's dead. But don't worry, I'm not in danger of falling in love with you now that we've had a quick fumble on the side of the road."

He laughed at that, clearly relieved. "I love you, Lana, always will, but not...like that." Aellana understood completely. They'd always had a special bond, and as teenagers courting seemed to be the acceptable thing to do, but they'd never been in love with each other. They enjoyed each other's company, indulged their need for physical gratification, but had never been romantically inclined.

"I've been away a long time Thaiden. So much in my life has changed, but coming to Whiterun and finding you is the best thing that could have happened to me. Nothing has changed between us; nothing is different. The only thing that's passed is time."

Thaiden got up and pulled Aellana into a hug, smiling down at her with affection. "I should go."

"Why don't you stay here? I've got plenty of room." She gestured at the big, empty house, and Thaiden laughed in reply.

"I'm going to stay with the Companions. If we're on the road together, we'll be seeing so much of each other, and I've got my own room at Jorrvaskr. As much as I love your company, Lana, I'll need some space and time to myself as well."

She nodded at that. Thaiden had always craved his private time, something she understood all too well. She'd spent a lot of time on her own as well, reading, drawing, and practising her craft. They'd be on the road for weeks on end, travelling together, fighting alongside each other, and sleeping side by side, under the stars. Some time to be by themselves with their own thoughts would not be unwelcome.

"I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Get some rest. We both need it." He headed to the door, opening it and stepping outside before turning back to her. "You're my best friend too you know. Always have been."

With that, he was gone, and Aellana was left alone with her thoughts. She headed upstairs to the large bedroom and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, the excitement of the last few days finally catching up to her.

 

* * *

 

Riverwood was as busy as usual, with the inhabitants going about their daily lives, no hint of the dragon threat that had plagued them a few short days ago to be sensed anywhere. The sun was warm and mild, and the villagers smiled at Aellana and Thaiden as they strode through the town, revelling in their safety now that the dragon was dead.

Alvor was at his forge as they approached, and waved at them, obviously pleased to see them.

"My friends! I hadn't thought to see you again so soon."

"We came to see that you were all safe."

"I hear we have a stranger to thank for the death of the dragon. Was that stranger you?"

Aellana winked and nodded, grateful that those present at the watchtower had chosen to keep her name out of the gossip that would slowly filter through Skyrim. Her location was still secret, for now.

"I also heard that you are the Dragonborn?"

"So the rumours say, but I've never listened to gossip myself." Alvor laughed at that and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Well, Riverwood owes you their lives, regardless."

"Please, the Jarl of Whiterun's men were just as responsible, and good men died making sure everyone was safe."

"Aye, you're right. They'll be remembered."

"Is Hadvar about? I wanted to say goodbye before we set off."

"He's gone to rejoin his legion at Castle Dour. Left before the dragon attacked, said he had to warn the Imperial Army."

"I'm sorry to have missed him, but that's a sound plan. If Dragons are returning to Skyrim, then we'll need every force available to keep the citizens safe."

They continued to exchange pleasantries for a few more moments before Alvor excused himself to continue his work, and Thaiden and Aellana found themselves with a free afternoon and no desire to begin their travels straight away. Thaiden suggested they spend an hour or two enjoying the sunshine with an ale or two at the local inn, and Aellana thought it a wonderful idea. This would be the first time she had relaxed since returning from High Rock and sorely needed a distraction.

They walked toward the Sleeping Giant Inn, talking and laughing easily, enjoying each other's company. The awkwardness of the previous day was gone, and they'd fallen into the natural rhythm of their friendship.

"Would you look at this fine lass?" The voice caught her by surprise, and she nearly turned to see who it was but thought better of it. Two men stood by a horse cart outside the inn, bantering to and fro about the quality of women they could attract. Aellana resolved to ignore them. She'd had her fair share of admirers over the year, and had learned that it was best not to encourage men who were clearly drunk throwing unwanted attention her way. But when one of the men stated that she must be a witch, because her eyes had put a spell on him, Thaiden burst out laughing and she couldn't help but giggle herself at the weak attempt at flattery. The two men quieted in embarrassment at their laughter, which only made them laugh more, completely unable to look at the two men.

They were both still giggling as they approached the Inn. A figure stood just by the door, leaning casually on the frame, and Aellana looked up to find him staring at her intently. His leather armour, the bow slung across his shoulder, and dagger at his hip screamed Ranger, and his steely countenance suggested he was somehow, very dangerous.

"What are you looking at?" she inquired curiously, still breathless with laughter at the two men's fumbled attempts at flattery.

"Oh nothing, nothing," the man replied, feigning disinterest. "It's just that I just witnessed you turn your nose up at those two catcalling you over there." Aellana glanced back to the two men who seemed to have completely forgotten about her already and were now engaged in a heated debate over which man's mother looked more like a frost troll. "You think you're too good for the likes of them?" the man continued, putting her on the spot. "Turning up your nose at a decent compliment like some damn noble?"

Aellana just stared at him in stunned silence for a moment. His words hurt, but she wasn't about to let him see that.

"Oh, I'm sorry, princess," she retorted. "Was I not paying enough attention to the men whose interest I neither invited nor desired? Or is it just that you wish they were paying attention to you instead?" Thaiden couldn't contain his laughter at that and gave her an approving poke in the ribs.

"Whoa...Princess?" the man laughed. "Those guys only wish they could work up the courage to come talk to me." He gave her a wink, and Aellana felt the tension of the situation dissipating. "But seriously, they've been harassing every decent pair of legs that have passed by this Inn for days. Yesterday they got so drunk they wolf-whistled the blacksmith. I think it might have been the hair," he whispered conspiratorially. She couldn't help but smile at that as the stranger looked her up and down appreciatively. "You're the first they've been right to admire though."

"Wait a second. Did you say they've been doing it for days? What on earth do you do here? Hold up the wall?"

The man chuckled before taking a step closer, pressing his body up against hers, so close she could feel his breath on her face. Aellana heard Thaiden grumble protectively behind her.

"Maybe I'm here to stop noble ladies for drinks before they have the dullest night of their lives," he growled, his voice low and gruff. She looked straight at him, daring him to take a step closer while her heart pounded.

"Nice try, Ranger," she snarled in warning.

He stepped back then, holding up his hands in mock defeat, and Aellana kept her gaze steady, making sure he knew she was not to be trifled with. She couldn't make sense of this man. His demeanour was aggressive, but his words were playful. There was something wolfish and wild about him, like an animal ready to pounce, and she found it intriguing.

The man was handsome, if somewhat grizzled. A scar ran across one cheek, accentuating his wild appearance, making him seem dangerous. His hair was golden brown and dishevelled as if he'd just woken up from a tortured sleep, but his piercing, amber eyes were bright and intelligent as they burned into hers. His gaze was penetrating, curious, and wary all at the same time and Aellana felt a flush come to her cheeks at his scrutiny, but refused to break the stare.

The ranger broke first, apparently having come to some decision, he stepped forward with a hand extended to both her and Thaiden.

"My name's Bishop." Aellana took his hand gratefully, and after only a brief pause, Thaiden did the same. "I was tracking my wolf, Karnwyr. We were separated about a week ago, and there have been rumours of bandits holding pit fights this side of Skyrim. I've been 'holding up this wall' as you said, in the hopes of collecting some gossip that might lead me in the right direction."

"And?"

"And, that's all I've got so far. But I'm going to get him back before something bad happens to him."

"I could help you get your wolf back."

The words were out of her mouth before she'd even realised she'd said anything. Thaiden whipped his head around to stare at her, and Bishop gave her a quizzical look.

"Careful now, enthusiasm like that could get you killed." Aellana cursed herself. "But," Bishop continued, "If the bandits that took him are running a ring there's going to be quite a few of them, and I probably could use a little help. If you want to come, I wouldn't complain about my odds, and I could certainly do worse for company." He directed the last part at Thaiden, giving the larger Nord a mischievous wink. Thaiden just glared.

"Sure, I'd love that!" she blurted out.

Bishop looked at her pointedly. 

"Really? You'd 'love' helping a stranger you just walked up to?" She cursed herself again. She was acting like a school girl. She tried to sound nonchalant when she replied, but this Ranger put her on edge, and her reply came out more like a question than the strong retort she'd planned.

"Sure?"

Bishop sighed. "Well, who am I to complain, but..." he paused as if coming to a decision, "I need to make a few things clear before we set out." Aellana nodded. A few ground rules in a new partnership was to be expected. "I don't trust anyone, not even the man pouring my drinks. There are only two things in this world I trust. Myself, and my wolf. Got it?"

"Don't worry Ranger. Trust is in short supply these days. But I promise we'll get your wolf back."

"Oh I have no doubts about that, I only worry about how long it will take. He'd have turned the earth upside down to get to me if it had been the other way around."

"We were on our way to High Hrothgar, but if time is of the essence, then we'll make sure your wolf is safe first." She didn't dare look at Thaiden, whose eyes she could feel boring into her back. High Hrothgar could wait. This man needed their help.

"Thank you. But, before you get any silly ideas like getting him to lick your hand or rubbing his belly, Karnwyr is not a pet. We've been together since I was 17, and he's closer to me than a brother. Got that?"

"How did you get separated in the first place?" she asked with genuine curiosity, but the Ranger snapped at her.

"Private matters, that you have no business knowing." She stared at him, obviously having struck a nerve. There was something odd about this Ranger, volatile. It made her nervous, but at the same time, she found herself drawn to him, desperate to unravel his mysteries.

"Well, with an attitude like that it's not surprising you've not had any luck finding out where your wolf is." She saw his eyes darken, so ploughed on quickly. "Thaiden and I will go inside, have a few drinks and make some enquiries. We're less invested, so might have a bit more luck than you did getting information out of the locals."

Bishop paused for a moment before nodding in assent.

"I'll meet you both at the city gates at dawn. Don't keep me waiting."

He strode off, leaving Aellana and Thaiden looking at his retreating back. Thaiden turned to her with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask, _what was that about?_  Aellana barely knew. The whole exchange seemed surreal.

"Are you sure about this, Lana?"

She shrugged, not sure about anything anymore. But she'd committed them, and wasn't in the habit of going back on her word.

"Come on," she beckoned him inside, "let's see what we can find out. I may not trust that guy, but I'm definitely not going to leave an animal to suffer at the hands of bandits. We help him find his wolf and go our separate ways."

"If you say so." The look Thaiden threw her way was indecipherable as they headed into the Inn.


	8. Into the Pit

They rose with the dawn, clearing their rooms at the Sleeping Giant Inn and stopping in the kitchens to purchase some provisions for the journey. The tavern still slept soundly, but the smell of freshly baked bread and hot coffee was welcome as they bartered with the cooks. They had drunk too much the night before, and Aellana's head was pounding. She was grateful for the relative silence of the early morning.

Bishop stood leaning by the city gates as they made their way through the silent streets of Riverwood, perfectly mirroring his stance from their first meeting. The rosy hue of the dawn light gave him a softer appearance, and he seemed more relaxed, almost gentle as he gazed off into the treeline. He glanced up as she and Thaiden approached, his features sharpening once again.

"Didn't think you'd show up."

"I said we'd help you, and I meant it," she snapped, the hangover making her short-tempered.

"Well," he paused, looking her over as if trying to solve a puzzle, "thanks."

The silence that followed seemed to drag for eternity. No one quite knew what to say. Aellana and Bishop just kept staring at each other until Thaiden cleared his throat in an effort to break the tension. Bishop visibly shook his head to clear it, and Aellana massaged her temples, trying to remove the fog of alcohol from her brain. This Ranger had an uncanny ability to put her on edge, and she didn't understand why.

"Don't worry about it," she replied eventually with a sigh. "We've got something for you," she added, by way of offering. Bishop arched an eyebrow quizzically as Thaiden told him what they'd learned.

They'd not been in the Inn long the day before when they'd overheard a group of men talking about placing animal traps around the city. It seemed promising, so Aellana and Thaiden had set about trying to extract information from them. After so many drinks she'd lost count, a few games of cards and some unashamed flirting, they'd managed to discover that the men had been commissioned by a group of bandits from Riften to catch live wolves and have them transported to a cave halfway between Windhelm and Riften. They were running a quite lucrative underground gambling ring, drawing spectators from all over Skyrim. How they'd managed to keep it a secret for so long was a mystery, but it wasn't long before they knew the exact location.

Bishop's excitement mounted as Thaiden spoke, and he grabbed his bags and was out the gate before Thaiden had even finished his story. Aellana and Thaiden shared a look before quickly scurrying to catch up to the fast retreating Ranger.

They made excellent time. The way was easy going at first, and even when the rains began to fall, hot and wet, they continued on, not wanting to lose too much of the daylight.

"What's with the hulking chunk of man meat you've got travelling with you?"

Bishop appeared at her side, and she started in surprise. The rain was so heavy that she'd pulled the hood of her cloak tight around her and hadn't seen or heard his approach.

"He's a childhood friend. I wouldn't have got this far without him."

Bishop didn't question what she meant by that. He didn't pry into her personal life, which she appreciated.

"Want me to tell him to leave? I bet we could have some fun, just the two of us."

She shot him a withering look as he winked mischievously. 

"No, thank you. Where I go, he goes."

"Fine," he said with a shrug, "but it's terribly crowded in your entourage."

She'd hardly call three a crowd, so she pointedly ignored him. Silence fell once more, and Aellana found herself becoming more and more uncomfortable as it stretched on. Not wanting to seem rude, she eventually tried to engage him in conversation.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What do you want to ask?"

"When did you get Karnwyr?"

At first, he seemed disinclined to answer, but after a moment he replied.

"I got Karnwyr when I was just a boy. We survived together, hunted together. One day we'll die together, and that suits me just fine."

With that he hurried on, leaving Aellana to consider his words. The man clearly had trust issues, and after the last few weeks, she could well understand that. She left him alone after that, the group trudging on in silence.

They made camp as darkness settled. Thaiden busied himself arranging their belongings in the centre of camp to easier protect from bandit attacks, and Aellana set up their bedrolls and cooking utensils. Bishop disappeared for an hour, returning with wood for a fire, and enough meat and vegetables for a feast. Even Thaiden was impressed. The Ranger was clearly a skilled outdoorsman, and Aellana was grateful to have him with them. She thought back to her first nights on the run, taking shelter under trees in the cold and the dark without food or adequate shelter, and wondered how she and Thaiden would have fared if they'd been forced to journey alone.

She helped Bishop prepare a rabbit stew, and as they sat down to eat, found herself curious about the Ranger's past. He'd clearly spent a great deal of time living off the land and seemed at home in the forests.

"How did you learn to survive in the wild?"

"It was a necessity to know how to survive in this damned world. You survive, or you die. That's life, sweetness, and I had to learn that the hard way." It was said with such bitterness that she wondered at the pain that his words must hide.

"I'm sorry, did you lose your family?"

"I was born into a family of hunters, and they often took me out for practice. The Reach taught me to always check my footing twice, and the Northern regions hardened me enough to withstand the bitterness of the wind. I was hunting giants from the age of ten, you know, for sport." Aellana didn't know, and if she were honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure she believed his story. He seemed to be intentionally evasive in his answers. "I had fun with my bow. We travelled a lot too, from place to place. We were pretty nomadic, and I watched and learned. One night I decided to take everything I had, which wasn't much, and struck out on my own." She thought there was a lot more to that story, but didn't want to pry.

"You've seen the world, huh? That must have been nice."

"Nice? Listen now, sweetie, there's nothing nice in this world. The only nice things I can think of are a mug of ale in my hands, a warm fire, and a woman in my bed."

"I see..." She concentrated on her food again. She'd respect his privacy, but that level of cynicism just left her feeling cold. Bishop just laughed.

"What's with that response, ladyship? Sabre Cat got your tongue? Do you want to maybe share your life story, since you're so curious about mine?"

No, she didn't. She didn't know anything about him and certainly wasn't ready to reveal her identity to a complete stranger.

"I grew up here in Skyrim."

"That's all? Long story short. I'm sure there's more to you than that." He paused for just a moment, but when she refused to elaborate, he continued anyway. "Well, I don't care. I don't know what kind of life I would have had if I'd chosen differently."

"Be proud of your choices Bishop. They've made you who you are."

The words were out before she'd even considered them. Tears welled in her eyes. Her father had said those exact words on more than one occasion, and the fact that she'd so easily repeated them brought back just how much she missed him.

"I'm not sure 'proud' is the right word. But you've been helpful to me, so I guess it's time for me to give you a good turn."

"You'd better watch your wording there Ranger, a girl could get the wrong idea."

"Dream on, sweetheart. Although, I must say I like your enthusiasm." He smiled at her, holding her gaze. Thaiden coughed beside him, and Bishop shook himself from whatever thought had possessed him. "Now, before _I_  get the wrong idea, I'd better get back to what I was doing....what was I doing?"

 

* * *

 

It was approaching dusk the next evening as they entered the outskirts of the bandit camp that guarded the cave entrance. They used the mounting darkness to disguise their approach, staying close to the treeline, out of view.

"I count three guards and a handful of caged wolves" Thaiden reported.

"We could sneak around the outside and take a guard each," Aellana began, but before she could finish her sentence, Bishop had stood up, alerting the Bandits to their presence.

"Hey ugly," he shouted, "Catch!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Thaiden tried desperately to pull the Ranger back down, but he was already walking forward. With each step, he notched an arrow and let it fly, and both Aellana and Thaiden watched stunned as the three bandits fell in quick succession, barely even aware that they were under attack.

"Well, are you coming?" Bishop called over his shoulder. They'd never seen an archer move so fast. His practiced movements had flowed quickly, one into the other, and Aellana remembered the story he'd told about the Giants, wondering if maybe he hadn't been exaggerating after all.

She scurried over to the caged wolves, removing a lockpick from her pack.

"What on earth are you doing?" Thaiden cried in alarm. "Those are wild animals! If you let them out, they'll kill us all."

"Sorry to say it, ladyship, but I'm with the big guy." Thaiden nodded in appreciation of the support.

"Will you both calm down? We're not a threat to them." She turned to Bishop, "don't these creatures deserve the same freedom as Karnwyr?"

He didn't have a reply to that, so just stepped back as Aellana expertly picked the locks on the cage doors.

"How on earth did a lady like you learn to do that?" Bishop asked as the first door swung open.

"My father was a jeweller. You'd be surprised what intricate locks the nobles of Skyrim request for their keepsakes."

The first wolf whimpered as it realised it was free. It inhaled the air curiously, and walked up to Aellana, gently sniffing her hand.

"By the Gods!" Bishop gasped out as the animal ran off into the night, with barely a glance in their direction. The next two cages were the same. A whimper, a sniff and a wolf disappearing into the night in a blur of silver fur. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering who on earth this woman was.

As they entered the cave they saw a cage in the back, a lone, fawn coloured wolf whimpering at the bars. Bishop's features darkened, and that is all Aellana had to see to know that this wolf was Karnwyr. A lone bandit stood guard by the cage door who looked up as they approached, but Bishop got to him before he could react.

He punched the man in the face, who crumpled to the ground, holding his nose. From the blood that trickled between his fingers they could see it was broken, and as the man sank to the earth, Bishop came up behind him, pulling his head back roughly by the hair and slit his throat from ear to ear with a satisfied grunt. The bandit twitched and gurgled for a few moments before lying still, and Bishop cleaned his dagger off on the man's armour. The rage, force, and calculated efficiency behind the attack left both Aellana and Thaiden stunned.

Bishop ran to the cage and tried to pick the lock. His fingers fumbled for a few moments, and Karnwyr whimpered until Aellana placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Please, let me."

In a moment the massive iron lock lay open on the ground at their feet, and Karnwyr stood before them, happily sniffing Aellana's boots with curiosity.

Despite the violence they'd just witnessed, she found herself giggling, letting the wolf smell her hand.

"You must be Karnwyr." The wolf looked up at her, happily wagging his tail, before giving a brief yap in reply. When he caught sight of Bishop, he nearly bowled her over in his haste to get to the Ranger, who in turn laughed with such unbridled joy that both she and Thaiden found themselves smiling along with the happy reunion.

"There you are, you mutt!" Karnwyr jumped up to lick the Rangers face as he rubbed him behind the ears. "What the hell were you thinking, getting trapped and making me track you all the way to this godsforsaken place?"

The wolf licked Bishop's hand in reply.

"There there. What do you say we play a little game for old times sake? I'll shoot an arrow into one of those bandit bastards' knees, and you can rip his face off?" Karnwyr barked happily, and Bishop stalked further into the cave. "Let's make these sons of bitches pay!"

Thaiden and Aellana could only watch as man and wolf went deeper into the cavern, dispatching bandits as they went. The two were a perfect team. Bishop shot arrows to incapacitate from afar while Karnwyr got in close, biting and tearing.

The narrow cave walls opened out into a large chamber, and Aellana could see how much effort had gone into setting up a place like this. The centre of the room was dominated by a giant fighting pit, surrounded by benches where happy revellers cheered as they watched two wolves tear each other apart. A bar stood in the corner of the room, fully stocked with fine ales and wines, and yet more people were crowded around it placing bets, shouting and laughing.

She saw red. The two wolves were emaciated, obviously starved to increase their aggression. As she watched, one wolf pounced, tearing at the other's throat, leaving it to die slowly, bleeding and whimpering into the sand beneath them.

"You fucking animals!" Aellana barely registered her own screams. Silence fell over the room as the gamblers turned to stare at the intrusion. "Making these creatures fight for your pleasure? It's barbaric!" The crowd just laughed, turning away, ready to release another wolf into the fight. That was all the prompting she needed.

She focused her magic, bringing a flame to her hand before unleashing it into the crowd. The laughter quickly turned to screams as the burning spectators ran around in desperation, trying to douse the flames, only spreading it further as they bumped into their neighbours, setting clothes and hair alight. She threw fireball after fireball into the screaming crowd, setting the bar alight, sending the alcohol up in an inferno which blasted out, incinerating the last of the onlookers left alive.

The silence that followed was deafening. She turned to Bishop and Thaiden who were just staring at her in stunned silence. Thaiden had seen her at work in the Barrow, but it had been nothing like this. The rage and sheer power that had come from her left him utterly speechless, and he wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to the little girl he used to know.

"Well, are you coming?" Aellana marched off through the fighting ring, her words perfectly mirroring Bishops from only a few moments before. There could still be wolves here, and she'd be damned if she was going to leave a single one in this godsforsaken cave.

The room beyond the ring was filled with cages, the walls lined with steel boxes, each holding an emaciated wolf who looked out at them with sad, pleading eyes. A man stood at the back of the room, sword at the ready having been alerted to the intruders by the earlier commotion.

"This one's mine," Bishop grumbled as he strode forward. He made light work of incapacitating the bandit, but unlike the one guarding Karnwyr, he didn't kill him immediately. He looked up at Aellana, and instinctively she understood what he wanted her to do.

She moved around the room quickly, removing locks as she went. She motioned for Thaiden to take the left side, while she took the right, and within minutes they had every cage door open. At first, the wolves didn't move, but in one quick stroke Bishop had plunged his dagger into the bandit's belly, leaving him wounded, but alive. The smell of blood quickly roused the weakened wolves, and as one they began to growl, slinking toward the bleeding man. The three of them immediately left the room, not wanting to get caught in the crosshairs of a hungry wolf's dinner, listening to the bandit's pain filled screams as they let the wolves devour him alive.

The air outside was clear and bright, and as they emerged into the starlight, Aellana turned her head upward, taking in huge gulps of the fresh night air. She felt no guilt at the deaths of the bandits and those who had derived such pleasure from the suffering of animals, but it still felt good to be out in the open, away from the sound and stench of death.

"I'm impressed, ladyship!" Bishop came up behind her, clapping her on the back, obviously in awe of the way she'd fought. "I didn't think a woman like you had it in you."

"I have many skills, Bishop," she said, pointedly ignoring the suggestive way the Ranger raised his eyebrow at that.

"You have your wolf back now. What are your plans?" She could always rely on Thaiden to be practical and ask the obvious questions. She supposed their agreement with the Ranger was at an end, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed that their brief acquaintance would soon be over.

"Well, if you don't mind, I think I might tag along with you?" Aellana looked up in surprise. "I figure I owe you a few favours now for helping me find Karnwyr, and who knows what kind of trouble we can find ourselves in along the way."

"Trouble seems to be following us these days," Thaiden replied tightly, and she couldn't help but agree with him. He was obviously wary of Bishop joining them, but Aellana found herself enjoying the prospect of getting to know him better.

"Don't worry, I'm going to get you into all sorts of trouble!" Thaiden rolled his eyes at her. She'd meant it completely innocently, but the implied innuendo was obviously not lost on either man.

"Is that right?" Bishop replied with a wink. " I'm looking forward to that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you who have taken the time to read this. It means a lot to me. Hope you're enjoying it as much as I love writing it! :)


	9. The Throat of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've played with dialogue here a bit. I've tried to keep it true to the game and the mod, but have edited it for flow and given some elements of dialogue to other characters.
> 
> Also, smut incoming. :D

"When you said you'd get me into all sorts of trouble, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Bishop tried to warm his hands by the fire, but the bitter cold of the mountainside was all-encompassing, snaking tendrils of icy wind into the folds of his clothing, and making his teeth chatter.

They were camped half way up the Seven Thousand Steps that led to High Hrothgar where the Greybeards made their home, and already Aellana found herself wishing they'd never left the warmth of their rooms in the Vilemyr Inn. The Greybeard's monastery sat at the Throat of the World, the highest point in Tamriel, so the higher they climbed, the more bitter the icy air became.

Ivarstead, on the other hand, was a charming, sleepy little hamlet. The inhabitants had welcomed them with open arms, and Bishop had remarked that the townspeople had very few visitors so would appreciate the distraction that entertaining them would bring. Despite being halfway between Riften and Whiterun, the town itself was set back quite a way from the main road. Visitors would have to go out of their way to come to a place like this, which is why most of them were pilgrims who wanted to climb the Seven Thousand Steps.  Ivarstead provided a pleasant place to prepare for the gruelling journey.

"I've been to Ivarstead a few times, but never really had a reason to climb this mountain," Bishop remarked, and after spending a few hours exploring the town Aellana found herself wondering what other possible reason the Ranger would have had to come here at all? Apart from the Inn and a lumber mill, there was nothing there that she could see would have drawn him to a place like this.

"If you weren't a pilgrim, what brought you here?"

"Well, I could ask you the same thing. You don't strike me as the religious type, so why bother with The Seven Thousand Steps?"

"It's a long story. The trip might be wasted, and if it is, I'll tell you all about it. At least it'll be a funny one. If the story is true though, then you'll find out soon enough."

Aellana didn't feel comfortable telling anyone about being the Dragonborn yet. She wasn't quite sure she believed it herself. The answers lay in High Hrothgar, so that's where they'd have to go, and she supposed she'd have to accept the outcome no matter what it was. She already had her suspicions though. A dragon had been circling above them since well before they'd made it to Ivarstead, and she very much doubted that was a coincidence. She and Thaiden were the only two to notice it, however, and a silent nod had been enough to make sure they didn't mention it aloud. A dragon panic was the last thing they needed.

"Gods almighty, and I thought I was a private person!" Bishop threw his hands up in mock exasperation, and Aellana gave him a pointed look.

"Well, you answered my questions with a question. At least I had the guts to tell you outright I wasn't going to answer."

"Fair enough." He sighed deeply, deciding that just telling her was the path of least resistance. "There were rumours a few months back that the barrow on the outskirts of town was haunted. The Innkeeper was offering a reward to whoever could clear it out as it was affecting business."

"I'm sure. Who'd want to sleep next door to a haunted barrow?" Aellana raised her eyebrow. Bishop seemed full of unlikely stories.

"On my life, ladyship. I wasn't the first to come and try to claim the reward, but when I went in, I...there was a voice, and I saw a spirit with my very own eyes. When it glared at me, I swear it burned into my very soul. I got out of there as quick as I could and haven't been back since."

"Well," Aellana considered for a few moments, "I wonder if the reward is still going?"

"If whatever's in there hasn't been cleared out, I should imagine so."

"Let's go speak to this innkeeper then," she decided. "There's three of us. I'm sure we can take on whatever's in there. I mean, I've killed a dragon, I can't imagine it'll be any worse."

"You killed a what?" Bishop called after her, but Aellana ignored him, heading straight for the Inn where Thaiden was already deep into his second mug of ale.

A few hours later they had found themselves in the barrow. The innkeeper had jumped at the chance to finally be rid of the spirits he claimed guarded it but had made sure that they knew that the reward would have to be split between the three of them. They'd agreed, but not before managing to negotiate a free mug of ale before setting off. The innkeeper even decided to give them an artifact from the Barrow as an enticement, assuring them that there could be other valuables there for the taking.

The barrow was spooky, Aellana had to give Bishop that. The air was damp and cloying, and she couldn't help but feel that they were being watched.

"I don't like this place," Thaiden admitted, perfectly mirroring Aellana's thoughts.

They descended through the darkness, the feeling of being watched getting stronger and stronger. Bodies were placed carefully along the walls as if standing sentinel over the barrow and its contents, and it was easy to see how it had gained a reputation for being haunted.

Aellana's heart beat in her chest as they entered the first chamber.

" _Leave this place...,_ _"_  she barely registered the voice at first, but one look at Bishop told her she'd not imagined it. The Ranger may have been many things, but a coward was not one. If he was frightened, then there was a reason.

" _Leave this place...,_ _"_  the voice came again, this time from just off to their right.

"By the Gods!" She heard Thaiden's voice, thick with fear as she whipped around to see where he was looking. For a second she could have sworn she saw something. A figure of a man, barely visible behind a locked gate, gone before her eyes had time to adjust.

" _Leave....leave....leave...,_ _"_  the voice echoed, and for a moment Aellana considered doing just as it asked. A deep, rumbling growl from Karnwyr steeled her resolve though. No ghost was going to get the better of her.

"We have to get through that gate," she said, voice steadier than she'd anticipated, and Bishop and Thaiden both gave her a look of appreciation as her voice calmed them.

A room to the side revealed a series of levers, and after some trial and error, Thaiden managed to open them all, allowing them progress but leaving their retreat open if needed. They made their way further into the barrow until Bishop cursed loudly, clawing at his arm.

"Something shot me!" he exclaimed in surprise. Aellana hurried over to inspect, and sure enough, a small dart of poison was sticking out of his upper arm.

"You know what this means?" she asked, handing him a healing potion from her pack.

"By all means, ladyship, enlighten me," Bishop grumbled, his discomfort making him short tempered.

"If there are traps, there are people. I don't think we're dealing with anything supernatural."

Neither man could disagree with that estimation, and with those few simple words any terror they'd felt at the barrow dissipated. When the voice next came, they were ready, steeled and determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on in this barrow.

" _Does someone live among the dead?_ _"_  Now that they'd determined the voice belonged to a person, the script seemed almost cliche, and Bishop giggled out loud, drawing a smile from Aellana and Thaiden as they tried to creep silently toward the source of the voice.

Rounding a corner, they found it. Bishop pushed Aellana out of the way just in time for her to see a blade cut down right where her head had been just a moment before. She nodded in thanks before throwing herself into the fray, as the trio ducked and wove around an invisible foe who they could only see out of the corner of their eyes.

"Philter of the Phantom!" Thaiden cried. "I've seen it before. Keep your eyes averted and you'll see him in your peripheral vision."

It was Bishop who finally landed the killing blow, timing it perfectly as the invisible man lunged at Thaiden, almost taking his hand clean off. As the man crumpled to the ground, he became perfectly visible again.

"Wyndelius!" Bishop exclaimed.

"Friend of yours?" Thaiden inquired, gesturing to the corpse at Bishop's feet.

"Not exactly. He arrived at the same time as I did to collect the innkeeper's reward. He went in first and never came out again. We all thought he'd died."

Aellana whistled through her teeth. "So, he used the rumour of a haunted barrow to create a real haunted barrow? But why?"

"This might tell us." Thaiden was holding up a worn leather journal he'd picked up from a nearby table. The man had apparently made his home here. There were scavenged cooking ingredients, some spell books, an alchemist's table in the corner, and utensils for cooking strewn around. From the pile of discarded animal bones near the bedroll against the wall, Aellana surmised he'd been here for some time.

Bishop and Thaiden flicked through the journal as Aellana went through the man's meagre belongings, looking for anything of value, but stopped when Bishop cried out in excitement!

"Here it is," he pointed to the page. "He was looking for something in these catacombs, and wanted to make sure no one else could get to it first." There was a map of the twisting corridors pointing toward a door, and Bishop continued. "This door here is locked. It needs a key, and he spent months trying to find it. Whatever it is, it's got to be valuable."

Aellana laughed then, remembering the artifact that the Innkeeper had given them. She brought it out of her pack and handed it to Bishop, who looked at her in confusion.

"It's not the first time we've seen one of these, is it Thaiden?"

Thaiden looked at the object in Bishop's hands before realisation dawned. "Gods, of course! Bleak Falls Barrow."

The object was in the shape of a dragon's claw, with sapphire where the Bleak Falls Barrow claw was gold. The design was almost identical, and Aellana was in no doubt that this would be the key to opening the door that Wyndelius had been so desperate to get through."

"Sorry," Bishop stared at them in confusion, "you've lost me."

"Come on, we'll show you."

A few moments later they stood at a set of heavy stone doors. As before, Aellana inspected the claw, finding the combination and placed it into the locking mechanism. With a clanging groan, the doors unlatched, disappearing into the ground.

Now that they knew what to expect, Aellana and Thaiden made light work of getting them to the central burial chamber. Bishop was an experienced dungeon crawler, but he had to admit he was impressed at the way the two of them worked as a team, disarming traps and solving complicated locks. He'd always travelled alone, except for Karnwyr of course, but seeing the way they moved quickly through terrain that would have taken him hours to do alone, he found himself glad he'd chosen to tag along.

The central burial chamber was a bit more challenging. Wave after wave of the dead rose from their tombs, shambling toward them. As soon as they cut one down, another sprang up in its place. They hacked and slashed their way toward the central dais until finally there were no more. As the last Draugr fell, a bridge crashed down behind them, opening up the entrance to another cave.

Aellana's skin began to tingle. She recognised the sensation, and a few moments later heard the voices in her head again. The closer they got to the end of the tunnel the louder they became, and Thaiden once again threw her a concerned look.

The wall was there, just as she'd expected. It stood over a bridge that stretched out behind a large wooden chest, glowing softly, beckoning her forward. She left Bishop and Thaiden to go through the contents of the chest and remove anything of value, as she made her way once again toward the light as the voices reached their crescendo and swelled in her mind.

"What on earth is she doing?" Bishop whispered to Thaiden.

"I have no idea, but it's not the first time this has happened. Just leave satisfied moan be, she'll be fine in a moment."

As the voices reached fever pitch and the wall glowed so brightly it nearly blinded her she heard the word in her head.

 **"KYNE.**   **"**

She collapsed on the ground as the light and sound disappeared as quickly as it had come, and the two men were by her side in seconds.

"Are you alright?" Aellana was surprised at the concern she heard in Bishop's tone, and she quickly waved it away.

"I'm fine. But please, let's get out of here."

And so they had, returning to the innkeeper with Wyndelius' journal as proof that the barrow was now ghost free. He offered them free board for the night, and they'd gratefully accepted, settling down to a good night's sleep before setting off to High Hrothgar in the morning.

They'd made good time, but realising that hiking overnight on a near-freezing mountain would be suicide, had set up camp. The fire was roaring, but it still wasn't enough to keep away the cold, and Aellana gratefully snuggled into Thaiden's warmth as he offered her his arm.

Bishop raised an eyebrow, but Thaiden just rolled his eyes at the Ranger, pointing to the wolf who was curled around Bishop's own feet in an effort to keep both of them warm. The two men grabbed the blankets from beside them, the Ranger wrapping up himself and his wolf, and Thaiden laying Aellana against his chest, covering both of them as they drifted off to sleep in the flickering firelight. They had a long way still to go. They'd need as much strength as possible. 

 

* * *

 

They reached High Hrothgar at noon the next day, having woken with the dawn just as the last embers of the fire flickered and died. They were well rested and had made good time, stopping only occasionally to exchange pleasantries with the handful of pilgrims who were already making their way up the mountainside.

They entered the silent Monastery to find the Greybeards stood, arranged in a semicircle in the large central chamber as if awaiting their arrival.

"So, a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age." One of the Greybeards stepped forward bowing deeply to Aellana.

She could hear Bishop's shocked intake of breath from behind her but chose to ignore it. She could deal with the Ranger later, but for now, she needed answers.

"You call me Dragonborn. What does that mean?"

The Greybeard shook his head, silencing her. "First let us see if you are truly Dragonborn. Let us taste of your Voice."

The dismissive way he'd shut her down made her angry, but she wanted answers. She'd have to play along for now. She thought back to that day at the Watchtower, remembering the word she'd felt in her soul, digging deep to dredge it forward once again. She took a deep breath, before letting the power run through her.

 **"FUS!**   **"**

She dared a glance back at Bishop, whose mouth was foolishly hanging open as the Greybeard in front of her staggered backward at the sound of her shout. She felt a mischievous glee at being able to shock the arrogant Ranger, at least this once.

"Dragonborn. It is you," the Greybeard bowed deeply. "Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now, tell me Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

"Are you serious?" Aellana's mouth dropped open at that. "You summoned me!"

"In that case, we are honoured to welcome you to High Hrothgar. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfilment of your destiny."

"What is my destiny?" This was obviously the place to come for answers, but she couldn't help but think that the Greybeards weren't quite all there. She only hoped they could help her in a way that was useful.

"That is for you to discover. We can show you the way, but not your destination."

"Am I the only Dragonborn?"

"You are not the first. There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortal kind. Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age? That is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say."

The evasive answer irritated her, but she let it slide as Arngeir offered to teach her how to use her shouts. He asked Thaiden and Bishop to leave the room, and while both seemed unwilling to leave her alone with these strange, old men, she gave them a quick nod, letting them know she'd be fine.

When they'd left the room, heading to the kitchens to put together some more supplies for their journey back down the mountain, Aellana's training began. The Greybeards drew symbols on the ground in shimmering magic, and Aellana absorbed the words they represented, one by one. The voices came like they did at the wall, but this time they were a dull whisper, not the how these sound and light she experienced at the source.

As she learned the words, Arngeir called the masters over one by one, and they let her absorb their knowledge, just as she'd absorbed power from the dragon directly.

As the first master stepped forward, letting his power wash over her, she couldn't help but whimper a little "oh!" of surprise. As the man's power entered her, she felt a tingling feeling building from the core of her being. It was nothing like when she'd absorbed the dragon's energy, but there was something deeply unsettling at the way her body became aroused at the touch of the old man's power. As each successive Greybeard did the same, she found herself trembling with misplaced desire, desperate for a release that she if therecouldn't have here.

Arngeir chuckled as he recognised the flush in her cheeks for what it was.

"Your quick mastery of the Thu'um is...astonishing. I'd heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself..."

"I don't know how I do it. It just happens. But it makes me feel..." The old man nodded, he already knew.

"You were given this gift by the Gods for a reason. It is up to you to determine how best to use it. We are bound by vows of silence and celibacy, but you, Dragonborn have no such vows. A dragon's power is a potent thing. Be sure not to let it overwhelm you."

Aellana coughed in embarrassment. This is not a conversation she thought she'd be having when they had set out that morning, so she quickly changed the topic to something safer.

"But why are the dragons returning? Does it have something to do with me?"

"No doubt. The appearance of a Dragonborn is not an accident. Your destiny is bound to the return of the dragons." He'd barely finished the sentence before he began walking away saying, "come, let us practice your new shouts." Aellana had no choice but to follow.

Thaiden and Bishop joined them outside as Arngeir talked her through using her shouts. They looked on in appreciation as she made light work of their instructions. It was good to know what she was capable of, but still, she needed more from the Greybeards. Just knowing how to use the Thu'um was not enough.

"Surely there's more you can tell me," she pleaded with Arngeir as he called a halt to the practice, letting her know the lesson was at an end.

"There is indeed much that we know that you do not. That does not mean that you are ready to understand it. Do not let your easy mastery of the Voice tempt you into the arrogance of power; that has been the downfall of many Dragonborn before you."

Irritation quickly replaced Aellana's curiosity. The pointless mystery for the sake of evasiveness was something that she'd always hated, even in storybooks, and she said as much to Thaiden and Bishop who laughed and suggested they leave the old men to their musings. She couldn't help feeling that whatever answers she was seeking, she wouldn't find them here after all. The Greybeards seemed too intent on preserving their mysteries.

They thanked the Greybeards for their time, more out of politeness than anything else. Aellana was convinced now that she was the Dragonborn, but beyond that, she didn't feel any wiser than when she'd arrived that morning. As they prepared to leave, Arngeir stopped her as she made for the exit.

"Dragonborn, a moment? We have a task for you." Aellana had come here for answers, and instead was leaving with a job to do for a few old men who refused to abandon the safety of their sanctuary. She felt her anger bubbling just below the surface and realised she was only a few moments away from losing her temper completely. "Retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, and return it here to us. Stay true to the Way of the Voice, and you will be unharmed."

Aellana stared at the old man in consternation. She didn't believe in their religious mumbo-jumbo surrounding the dragons. There were forces at work here, but she was pretty confident they weren't mystical. Paid work was fine, but she resented the idea of being a messenger girl for these old fools and opened her mouth to turn them down before Thaiden interjected.

"We'd be happy to help."

She stared at him, and Arngeir thanked Thaiden and said farewell. As observed him again stood outside in the storm, she rounded on him in anger.

"What was that about?" she screamed, body trembling with barely concealed rage. "How dare you speak for me!"

"Lana, listen. It's the only way you'll get answers. I know these religious types. Just play their game, and they'll start opening up. Please, just trust me."

"Fine," she spat, "I'll do it because I trust you." She turned on her heel and strode away, turning back to Thaiden at the last moment, jabbing her finger at him for emphasis as she said, "but if you ever speak for me again, I will tear your throat out."

Bishop laughed gently and whistled between his teeth as Thaiden stood gobsmacked after her outburst.

"She's a firecracker that one," he laughed, before following her angry form down the mountain. Thaiden followed not far behind, painfully aware that he'd have a lot of apologising to do that evening.

Aellana felt guilty. She'd not meant to snap at Thaiden that way, but the useless way the Greybeards had evaded her questions, and the growing discomfort at her pent up sexual frustration from absorbing all that power was making her irritable. The two men hung back as they hiked back down the mountain, not wanting to irritate her further. Even Karnwyr preferred to slink further into the woods that surrounded the path rather than face her ire.

They set up camp in the same spot as the night before, having descended the mountain much faster than they'd climbed it. The fire pit was already prepared, so all they had to do was gather some more wood. They had enough left from earlier to get a small fire started, but when Bishop offered to hunt for some meat so they could have a warm meal and agreed to bring more firewood back with him, Aellana and Thaiden thanked him gratefully. Aellana needed some time alone to collect herself, and Thaiden looked forward to some time without the Ranger hanging about so he could finally talk to her about his misstep back at High Hrothgar.

Aellana busied herself building a fire, and once she had it at a steady roar, Thaiden sat beside her. An awkward silence stretched between them for a few moments before he forced himself to speak. A few days ago they'd been battling the undead in an ancient Nord tomb. Why was he now so frightened to talk to this little half-Breton?

"I'm sorry about this afternoon," he started quietly, looking at her face to gauge her reaction. She said nothing for a few moments, and Thaiden was sure she was just going to ignore him. A moment more passed until she looked at him and sighed.

"It's not your fault, not really. Those old men just rubbed me up the wrong way."

"I get it. They seemed to talk in riddles half the time. I feel like we've got more questions now than before we went."

"That's putting it mildly," Aellana snorted. "We're in this together. I know you weren't talking for me, you were speaking for us. We're a team."

"We'll always be a team Lana, but I should have spoken to you first, before opening my big mouth."

She smiled at him, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes. She poked at to the absentmindedly, and Thaiden couldn't help thinking that her mind was somewhere else ear made.

"Is something else bothering you?" She hadn't been herself all afternoon, and he got the distinct impression that there was something more going on other than their argument.

"Do you remember how we both felt after I killed that dragon back at the Watchtower?"

Whatever Thaiden had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. He cleared his throat to give himself some time to think about his reply.

"It's not exactly something I'm going to forget in a hurry," he replied, hoping it was what she wanted to hear. He wasn't entirely sure where she was leading with this. He thought they'd put any potential awkwardness around that day behind them.

"Well," Aellana continued, "something that no one tells you about being the Dragonborn is that every time you absorb some kind of dragon power, you feel that exact same way."

Thaiden just stared at her. For him, that moment by the side of the road had been a time of passion. They'd lived through something no one had the right to live through, and sharing intimacy with a person he cared about seemed the next logical step. But the power of that feeling, the intensity, thinking back, it was more than just joy at living. There had been something else at play. If he'd felt desire so strongly simply by being beside the Dragonborn as she absorbed power, how much more potent would that feeling have been for the one who'd actually absorbed it?

"So, you're...sexually frustrated?" Thaiden wriggled in discomfort at the turn the conversation had taken, trying not to sound like a complete idiot asking about it. How was it that they could so easily couple by the side of the road in full view of everyone, and yet couldn't talk about it anywhere near as openly?

Aellana laughed at his obvious discomfort. "That's putting it mildly."

Her unashamed way of talking put him at ease, and he found himself feeling grateful that she was willing to open up to him about something so personal. Most women, in his experience, would have been embarrassed, but Aellana had always been free and open with her feelings, especially where he was concerned.

He leaned in close. "The Ranger won't be back for a while. Want me to help you out?" He pulled back with a wink, and Aellana raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"Does that line work on any girls?"

Thaiden grinned. "That wasn't a no."

She didn't say anything else. Within seconds she had straddled him, taking his head in her hands and kissing him deeply. It was a passionate kiss, but eager with desire, not affection.

Thaiden felt himself respond almost immediately as his hands held her steady as she perched atop him. Aellana scrambled to remove her clothes, but he stopped her, grabbing both her wrists in one hand and pushing them together behind her back. He knelt in front of her, using his other hand to gently unlace her leather bodice. She shivered at the sudden cold as she was left with nothing but her loose shirt for covering, but the heat spreading through her body as Thaiden slowly pushed her shirt open meant she didn't feel most of it. She moaned as a large, warm hand cupped her, and shivered with desire this time, rather than cold as a finger gently circled an already hardened nipple, grazing the sensitive tip and eliciting a desperate cry of need as her useless hands clenched in Thaiden's vice-like grip.

He kissed the swell of her breasts and made his way slowly to her neck, where he lingered, her skin tingling with desire. His finger gently trailed downward, snaking its way down her stomach, making her muscles quiver in anticipation. As his hand nimbly worked the fastening of her trousers, he whispered in her ear.

"Tell me you want me."

A bolt of desire ran through her at his words, as his breath on her ear made her melt in anticipation.

"Gods, yes Thaiden. I want you."

It was all the encouragement he needed. With a satisfied grunt, he let his hand plunge down into her smallclothes, feeling the heat of desire burning, leaving her wet and ready. He let a finger gently strum over her sex, making her mewl desperately and buck against his hand as her own struggled where he still held them pinned. He teased and stroked, revelling in the desperate movement of her hips as she begged him to enter her. Her breath was ragged and quickening as she tried to push herself into his hand. When he finally gave her what she wanted and plunged two fingers deep inside her, she cried out so loudly that Thaiden knew the Ranger must have heard.

As his fingers penetrated her, she ripped her hands free from his grasp, and not for the first time he marvelled at how deceptively strong she was. She forcefully pushed him onto his back, pinning him with his hand above his head, grinding herself against the fingers that still pulsed inside her.

"Clothes," she growled, low and sensual, "now."

He needed no further invitation. Aellana released him from her grip, he removed his hand, and both of them divested themselves of their clothes as quickly as possible. He'd barely removed the last item before she was atop him once again, lowering herself onto his rigid length. She moaned in satisfaction as he penetrated her deeply, finally giving her what she'd spent hours hungering for. She ground against him, her hands on his chest as she steadied herself. He looked up at her, relishing in the bounce of her pert breasts, placing his hands on her hips, helping her push deeper. He matched her rhythm with his thrusts which elicited a satisfying groan of ecstasy from Aellana that was nearly his undoing.

She quickened her pace, desperate for release, her breath now coming in short gasps as she neared orgasm. A movement in the treeline a few paces away from camp caught her eye and nearly interrupted her rhythm. _No, no, no,_ she thought.  _Please, not now_. Her body was thrumming with anticipation as she rode Thaiden, harder and faster, and she could hear his groans of desire quicken, letting her know he was close as well.

There, behind a tree, just out of plain view of the camp, she could see Bishop watching their every move, eyes burning with desire. His gaze penetrated hers. She should have been embarrassed at the Ranger witnessing their coupling, but something about the way that he looked at her only seemed to heighten her arousal.

And Gods, she was so close now. She quickened her pace, never letting her eyes leave the Ranger's until she was caught up in the wave of ecstasy that washed over her as she came. Her body shuddered with force, her mind going blank as she peaked. Their gaze never wavered, and for that moment it was as if there was nothing else in the world but them and that moment of shared desire.

She was brought out of the moment as Thaiden grunted beneath her, letting his seed spill out onto his stomach with a satisfied moan. Aellana smiled down at him, feeling guilty for the way she'd selfishly taken release with barely a thought for his own. She looked up to the treeline again, but the Ranger was gone, and she wondered if perhaps she'd imagined him being there are all.

"Thanks," Aellana breathed, relieved and satisfied beyond measure.

"I know I said we shouldn't make a habit of it, but I mean it when I say 'anytime.'" He grinned at her, his features boyish and charming. "That was beyond spectacular."

She punched him playfully on the arm at that. "Come on, let's clean ourselves up before Bishop gets back. Besides, I'm absolutely freezing!" Her sweat soaked skin mixed with the frigid night air, and she realised she was shaking from the cold.

It was another half an hour before Bishop returned to camp. Aellana observed him carefully to see if there was any indication that he'd witnessed what had happened. He brought two rabbits and a bundle of firewood strapped to his back and quickly set about skinning their dinner while she took it upon herself to build up the fire. He smiled his usual guarded smile but chatted with them casually and easily giving nothing away. Thaiden hadn't seen him in the treeline, so perhaps he had been a figment of her imagination. Although what it might mean that she was having visions of Bishop while sleeping with another man, she wasn't ready to think about too deeply. 

 

* * *

 

They reached Ivarstead by mid-morning. The sun at the bottom was warm and welcome after the frosty air of the mountain path. The trio made their way into town (Karnwyr preferred to make himself scarce in populated areas), engaged in easy conversation and ready for an ale or two at the Vilemyr Inn.

"You there!"

Aellana, Thaiden, and Bishop all turned around in unison. Aellana groaned out loud, rolling her eyes.

"Gods, what is it now?"

"Are you the one they call Dragonborn?" A man stepped forward, his face obscured by a mask that seemed to be made of bone. He was followed by another figure who emerged behind him, their dark robes lending them an air of menace.

"The Greybeards seem to think so," Aellana countered. She had no idea how these men had learned she was the Dragonborn, but she had a feeling that the news would spread fast now that she'd been to High Hrothgar.

The man who'd addressed her raised his hands to the sky, projecting his voice in a melodramatic fashion, and she had to stifle a giggle.

"Then it is too late," the man screamed to the heavens, drawing out the townspeople to watch what all the commotion was about. "The lie has already taken root in the hearts of men. So we shall expose them to the falseness in their hearts by tearing out yours, deceiver!" He pointed at Aellana with a clawed glove. "When Lord Miraak appears, all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppose him!"

Bishop groaned impatiently beside them, and walked forward, drawing his dagger.

"By the Gods, shut up!"

The two cultists moved to attack, magic rippling through the air as they prepared to unleash their fury onto the three confused Nords before them. Before they could get off a single shot, Bishop ducked and twirled, dispatching them with his knife so fast Aellana could have missed it if she'd blinked. The way he'd moved was beautiful, like a dance of death.

Thaiden and Aellana stared at the Ranger for a moment as the bodies crumpled at his feet. The crowd stood dumbfounded before bursting into riotous applause. Aellana found herself laughing. The whole situation had been so over the top and ludicrous, and over so very quickly that she almost felt sorry for the organisation that had sent the men who now lay dead at Bishop's feet.

She knelt down beside the closest one and rifled through his pack, trying to find out who he was and why he'd singled her out. She found a note in his leather satchel, the seal broken with orders for her execution.

"Kill the False Dragonborn known as Aellana Evensnow," she read aloud. "Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased."

"Who on earth is Miraak?" Thaiden took the note from her, turning it over in his hands as if to look for clues.

"More importantly, how did he know my name and that I'm apparently the Dragonborn?"

None of them had an answer to that. It was just one more mystery to add to the pile of mysteries that had surrounded them since they'd set out together.

"Now  **this** ," said Bishop,"is what I had in mind when you said you'd get me into trouble. Let's go kill some cultists!"


	10. The Hot Springs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in uploading. I was travelling and didn't have the time to sit down and write. Finger crossed updates will resume regularly once more.
> 
> Just as an FYI, I'll be uploading this to Wattpad as well, a chapter at a time in case anyone prefers to read on there.
> 
> Thanks to all of you taking the time to read :)

It had been raining for days. The three travellers huddled in their cloaks, hoods up in an attempt to ward off the constant, bombarding wetness. But the force and angle of the sleeting rain meant that they were soaked to the bone nonetheless. At night they would huddle under the shelter of a leather tent, pitched as close to the sputtering fire as they dared to place it. With the aid of magic Aellana had managed to keep the fire lit, but despite her best efforts it still hissed and spat, threatening to go out at any opportunity.

Once the storm had broken, spirits began to lift. The sun began gingerly peeking out from behind the still heavy cloud cover, but the stillness of the air and the smell of damp earth envigorated them. The further north they travelled from Riften the colder it got, and Aellana guessed they couldn't be more than a day or two's walk from Windhelm where they hoped to barter passage to Solstheim in search of her would-be assassins.

Bishop had scouted ahead for danger. Windhelm was the seat of the Stormcloak rebels, and while none of them was officially aligned with either side of Skyrim's civil war, it wouldn't do to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Imperials had been known to execute unsuspecting travellers who just happened to be passing through at the same time as the rebels, and they'd not heard anything that would lead them to believe the Stormcloaks would be more lenient.

Both Thaiden and Aellana looked at each other in concern as they spotted Bishop in the distance hurrying toward them, Karnwyr hot on his heels. They feared the worst, and Aellana noticed Thaiden's sword hand twitching impatiently as it moved toward the scabbard strapped to his back. The roads of Skyrim were dangerous, and there could be anything up ahead. Bandits, Thalmor, Stormcloaks, Imperials? Not to mention the fact that there was a bounty on Aellana's head. While her name was already synonymous with the word Dragonborn, she was sure that she couldn't be recognised by people who weren't actively looking for her. Bishop had seen her name on the assassin's note but hadn't seemed to react to it. She was grateful that her identity would stay a secret from the Ranger for at least a little while longer. He'd proven himself resourceful and loyal, but she still wasn't sure if she fully trusted him.

As Bishop approached he beckoned them forward. Aellana and Thaiden advanced warily, surprised to see the excitement on his face, rather than fear.

"You won't believe what's up ahead!"

"Please tell me it's somewhere with a real bed," Thaiden groaned, rubbing his aching shoulders.

"Not quite, but I think it's just as good."

He looked at them expectantly, willing them to guess, but Aellana was cold, tired, hadn't been thoroughly dry in nearly two days and simply wasn't in the mood to play games.

"Please, Bishop, just tell us."

He pouted boyishly. "Fine." Aellana felt a pang of guilt at ruining the Ranger's fun but was too exhausted to play along. "There's a geothermal spring just up ahead where we can make camp tonight. Happy?"

"Happy?" Aellana was so excited she could have kissed him, immediately feeling even guiltier that she'd ruined Bishop's excitement at the delivery of his news. "We can all have a warm bath tonight. Happy doesn't even begin to describe it!" Bishop smiled at that. He liked seeing her happy and was glad his words had had the desired effect.

Packs felt lighter, and feet moved quicker as they neared the springs. For the first time in days, they laughed and joked, enjoying each other's company rather than sulking in sullen silence. They made camp earlier than usual, allowing themselves some daylight hours to enjoy the vista. The water was a crystal clear blue, the springs bubbling up from below creating a white foam that glittered like diamonds as steam twisted and curled invitingly over the pool's surface. The afternoon air was cold beyond the confines of the spring's surrounds, but huddled close to the banks they barely noticed.

They'd hardly lowered their packs before Aellana was off at a run, shedding her leather armour as she went. Bishop and Thaiden shared an amused look at her eagerness, but neither of them could blame her. After days on the road, the cold seeping through their clothes, chilling them to the bone, this seemed like a little slice of heaven.

"Go," Bishop nudged Thaiden playfully. "I can see how badly you want to."

"You sure?"

"Someone needs to skin the rabbit for tonight's dinner. Might as well be me."

"I'll cook, then. When I get back."

Bishop nodded in assent, but the hulking blonde Nord barely saw. He was up and away before he'd even finished the previous sentence, yelling it back into the wind as he disappeared from view.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Thaiden returned to camp just as Bishop had finished preparing the rabbit. He looked happy and relaxed, and the cleanest he'd been in days, his long blonde hair swaying around his shoulders making him look more the boy and less the hardened warrior that Bishop knew he was. Bishop looked down at his soiled armour, and running a finger through his dirty hair realised how desperate he was to be clean. Thaiden smiled and nodded, which was all the urging that he needed, retreating into the night to find a quiet spot to enjoy the water.

The night was clear, the stars shining brightly overhead. He allowed himself time to explore the banks and pools, observing the wildlife that flourished around the oasis in an otherwise icy landscape. Skyrim never ceased to amaze him in its natural beauty. The silence of the night amplified the soft murmurings of the local wildlife, and the steam of the springs accentuated the heady scent of jasmine and lilies that he was sure would forever remind him of this night.

The sound of a splash caught his attention, and as he turned, he caught a flash of silver in a nearby pool. They'd been alone when they arrived, so dagger at the ready, Bishop crept through the trees toward the source of the sound and light.

He stopped short with a gasp. A few dozen metres from where he stood, in a large pool the size of a small lake, swam one of the most amazing beauties he'd ever seen. The moonlight glistened off her snow white hair, while her skin seemed to glow with an otherworldly light piercing the darkness with its perfection. She dived and twirled in the water, and for the first time, he understood how sailors in the old stories could be so mesmerised by the songs of sirens. There was something moving and captivating about the display. It was both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. The woman's body was strong and athletic, but she moved with such a feminine grace that he wanted nothing more than to dive into the water and take her in his arms. He'd never wanted to possess something so badly in his life.

As she approached the shallows, she stood, and Bishop saw her displayed in all her beauty. Her skin was like porcelain, pale and flawless, her hair the colour of starlight as it lay in thick, wet strands down her back. He willed her to turn around so he could see her face, but she seemed intent on rubbing something out of the ends of her hair. She retreated to the depth once more, letting her hair fan out in the water, rubbing it clean, and shaking it out, droplets spraying outward like a crystal halo, the moonlight catching them, and making them twinkle like stars on a clear night. While the actions were utilitarian, there was something so supremely sensual about the display that Bishop groaned out loud.

The woman turned quickly swimming to shore, suspiciously gazing into the darkness to spy the intruder. Bishop slowly backed away into the cover of the trees, but not before he saw her face. It was unmistakable. The woman in the water was Aellana, and as he tried to come to terms with that thought, it suddenly dawned on him. He'd seen her name on the Cultist's orders but hadn't put two and two together. Aellana Evensnow. Of the Skyrim Evensnows. One of the wealthiest, powerful and most influential families in all of Tamriel, famous for their pure, white hair.

He felt angry and betrayed. That Thaiden knew who she was, he had no doubt. He was used to being the outsider, but Thaiden and Aellana had let him put himself in danger for them without the courtesy of the truth. In fact, they were actively hiding the truth. There was a bounty for her capture lucrative enough to ensure most of the country's bandits and bounty hunters would be hot on her trail. He'd considered taking the bounty himself, but he didn't much like involving himself in the affairs of nobles. He'd begun to feel that he could trust his companions, but knowing that Aellana and Thaiden were actively shielding her identity from him made him realise that he'd never be more than a resource to them. It's all he'd ever been, and all he ever would be.

He retreated further into the trees, and when he knew he was out of sight made his way to the pools at the opposite end of springs. He had some thinking to do, but he'd be damned if he was going to deny himself a warm swim and the chance to finally be clean.

 

* * *

 

Aellana could have sworn she'd heard something, but when she emerged from the water, there was no one there. She knew she'd been gone a while, but she desperately needed this time alone. The calm stillness of the night air, the soothing sounds of bubbling hot springs, and the soft caress of the warm water on her bare skin had helped to alleviate the tension of the last few weeks. With every stroke through the water, every dive into the deep, blue depth of the natural springs she felt more and more like herself.

Barely any time had passed before she'd seen the water turning black around her. After a few moments of panic, she'd realised with relief that it was the colour in her hair reacting to the natural minerals in the water. Within minutes the dye had washed completely away, leaving her hair as white as ever, and somehow feeling lighter than it had in weeks. The dye was thick and heavy, a fact that had surprised her and something she'd barely noticed until it was gone. Perhaps she imagined it; maybe it was more an emotional reaction to what the dye represented. She hated the secrecy and the hiding. She wanted her life, her identity back more than anything. Every day was a betrayal of herself, her family, and worst of all, her friends.

On the banks of the pool, she gathered up her clothes, rummaging through her belt pouch for the dye block that Aela had given her. She'd been using it every few days to hide the white roots the peeked cheekily through on her scalp, but she feared she'd be using the rest right now to re-blacken her hair. She'd have to procure more, and quickly. She used the water from her waterskin to wash the last of the mineral-rich spring water from her hair to ensure the dye would take, and set about scrubbing the colour in deep, brushing it through and allowing it to set as her hair dried in the warm night air.

Thaiden and Bishop could do without her for a few more minutes she decided. She was sure they were off enjoying the evening themselves. Her colour would need to entirely set before she dared return to camp. If Bishop were there he'd have questions; ones that she wasn't prepared to answer just yet.

She wandered through the trees along the banks, humming gently to herself and enjoying the evening. She walked without direction and without purpose, letting her feet take her wherever they wanted. They led her to a clearing with a large pool, where she stopped dead, mouth hanging open.

Bishop stood, waist deep in a tidal pool staring straight at her as she walked into the clearing. She'd apparently interrupted him mid wash, and she felt the colour rise in her cheeks as she took in the entirely naked Ranger before her.

His bare chest shone with reflected starlight as it bounced off the water surrounding him. His shoulders were broad, his chest defined and completely hairless, covered in myriad tiny scars that crisscrossed his torso like spider webs. His ash-brown hair was plastered close to his scalp, and as she stared at him, he raised his arm to wipe a few strands out of his eyes, making his muscles ripple with the movement. Aellana's eyes widened, and she couldn't help letting out a high pitched squeak at the sensuality of the action as she struggled for something to say.

"Gods, Bishop, you frightened me half to death."

"Me, frighten you?" The Ranger laughed. "You should be more observant when choosing locations to bathe, ladyship," he took a few steps forward, giving her a menacing leer as she tried not to look at his body that was fast emerging from the covering of the water. "There are desperate men about, ladyship. Men who might get ideas when faced with a beautiful woman such as yourself in a situation like this one."

Aellana felt her face redden further as the Ranger took a few more steps forward. He emerged from the water one step at a time, and Aellana tried to focus on his face, and not on the firm and shapely legs that were emerging steadily. What was he playing at? He was starting to frighten her, but she quickly swallowed her fear. If he'd been a gentleman, he'd have just let her apologise and pass by. But he was no gentleman, and she refused to be intimidated by him.

She looked him square in the face, unashamedly looking him up and down, taking in the full display of his magnificent body. Looking at him now, in all his nakedness she could appreciate what a superb looking man he was. His legs were toned and well muscled, he was well endowed with a smattering of fawn coloured hair around his groin, snaking up to disappear into a thin trail leading to his navel. His hips were narrow, fanning out to a well-defined chest, broad shoulders and thick neck. As her eyes travelled up his body, she felt no embarrassment, only appreciation, until finally, she was looking him right in the eye.

"It's a good thing I've got an honourable Ranger like yourself looking out for my well-being then, isn't it?"

Bishop was taken entirely by surprise. He'd expected her to shrink back in embarrassment. He hadn't planned on doing anything to her; he just wanted to warn her that he was not to be taken lightly, shaming her a little in the process. But she was not ashamed. He was stunned by her confidence and integrity as she quickly turned away and headed back to camp, beckoning for him to follow.

It was in that moment that he realised she was right. He would do anything to protect her.

 

* * *

 

If Thaiden was surprised to see them approach camp together, he didn't say a word. He did raise a quizzical eyebrow in Aellana's direction, but she just shrugged at him, and he decided it was best not to pry. It wasn't any of his business anyway.

Rather than their standard offering of stews and soups, Thaiden had outdone himself. He'd taken the time to forage the surrounding area of the camp, finding root vegetables and herbs galore. He'd slowly cooked the rabbit over the fire, roasting it to perfection, seasoning the vegetables and baking them over the hot coals with the juices of the meat falling onto them, flavouring them in a way that made both Bishop and Aellana's mouths water.

They sat and ate in silence, and Thaiden finally did find himself wondering what had happened between the two of them while they were gone. Their silence wasn't embarrassment, so he felt sure that nothing sexual had happened between them, and yet they seemed to be lost in their own thoughts, oblivious to anyone's presence but their own, stealing glances and looks of confusion.

"Are you two ok?" he finally chanced to ask. Aellana's head whipped up, and she looked confused as if she'd forgotten that he was even there.

"Oh, sorry Thaiden. Yes, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind."

"What her ladyship said," Bishop added with more than his usual grumpiness.

Thaiden looked at them both, and made a decision, getting up and rummaging through his pack. He produced a stoppered purple flask with a blue label and held it out to Bishop and Aellana.

"By the Gods Thaiden, is that..." Bishop looked at Thaiden in wide-eyed respect, "is that a bottle of Balmora Blue?"

"Balmora Blue?" Aellana's head whipped up as she stared at the stoppered flask, and then up at Thaiden as if seeing him for the very first time. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Very." Thaiden grinned at them, and for the first time, Aellana felt that she didn't know her friend at all.

"How on earth did you come by a flask of Balmora Blue?" Bishop sounded impressed which made Thaiden's grin even wider.

"I did some work for the Thieves Guild a few moons back. They rewarded me with this, and I've not had reason to open it until now. I've never tried it, never even tried Skooma. What do you say, shall we make this a night for firsts?"

"Crack it open big guy," Bishop replied with a huge smile, effectively negating any objections that Aellana might have had. "Let's make this a night to remember."


	11. Passage to Solstheim

"If you're looking for passage to Solstheim, too bad. I'm not going back there."

The Nord had introduced himself as Gjalund when they'd approached the waiting ship on the docks, and his pale face when she'd mentioned Solstheim had made Aellana think that there would be more to this journey than just finding her would-be assassins.

"What happened? Why won't you go back?"

"It's hard to explain," the man looked confused, as if he were trying to remember something incredibly important, but couldn't quite place it. Aellana rubbed her dry eyes, trying to soothe the hangover that hadn't yet worn off and felt she could relate. "I remember those people with the masks coming on board, then... the next thing I remember I was here, and they were gone."

Thaiden raised an eyebrow. "They were gone? Just like that?"

Gjalund turned to Thaiden, in obvious distress. "That's not right, is it, losing whole days like that? There's been something strange going on there for a while, but this? I'm done. I'm not going back to Solstheim."

Aellana didn't have the time, or the patience to argue with the man, despite his evident fear. The night before had seen her, Bishop, and Thaiden polish off the whole bottle of Balmora Blue, and her head was pounding. The night was a blur, with only snatches of laughter flitting through her memories. She'd woken up wedged between Thaiden and Bishop, all of them wearing less than they'd started the evening with, and completely unable to look each other in the eye or discuss what had happened. Perhaps between the three of them, they could have pieced things together, but she suspected it was best left forgotten.

"Yes, you are," she finally replied. "You're taking us to Solstheim."

"Have you been listening to me?" The man's voice was rising, panic making it piercing and desperate. "I'm not going back there!"

"You owe me!" Aellana shouted, about to lose her temper, and fighting down the urge to raise her voice even further. Gjalund opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to silence him. "Those cultists you brought over? They came to kill me."

Gjalund looked at her aghast. He wasn't at fault, of course, but if a little bit of guilt was what it would take for them to barter safe passage, then she was going to take advantage of that. Bishop looked at her, approving of her devious behaviour, but Aellana just rolled her eyes at him. After what happened at the springs she no longer wanted, nor needed the man's approval.

"Alright, you have a point," Gjalund replied after a brief pause. "Taking you back to find out who sent them is the least I can do. Besides, maybe you can put a stop to whatever's going on over there. I owe them a bit of payback myself."

 

* * *

 

The weather hadn't cleared yet, and the seas between Windhelm and Solstheim were stormy, the waves choppy, throwing the boat from side to side. Aellana had to choke down her fear, trying not to think about the last ship on which she'd sailed. Instead, she thought of Tynand, of what he'd say to calm her down. He'd always kept her safe and always knew the right thing to say to assuage her fears.

She glanced over at Thaiden, who was leaning on the railing of the deck, swaying visibly on his feet. He was looking somewhat green, and Aellana imagined they all looked a little worse for wear. She was about to walk over and ask if he was alright when he leaned desperately over the side of the boat, emptying the contents of his stomach in a violent wave, mouthing the word 'seasick' at her as he straightened up again. She made to move toward him, but he waved her away. She resolved to give him his privacy. There was nothing worse than someone hovering when you felt sick.

That left her alone on deck with Bishop as the sailors busied themselves to their tasks at hand. Bishop had noticed the lines of worry creasing Aellana's forehead and made his way over to speak to her. She saw the look of concern on his face, but she couldn't talk about what it was that was really bothering her. The wounds were still too fresh, and talking about it would only make the fear real, so instead, she smiled, patted the seat next to her, and engaged Bishop in friendly, idle chit-chat.

"I've never been to Morrowind before. How about you? Have you ever travelled outside Skyrim?"

Bishop looked surprised at the direct conversation but sat down next to her. He assumed that their relationship was on shaky ground after their altercation at the hot springs, but maybe, just maybe he could get her to open up.

"Yeah, once. Went on a hunting trip to Morrowind. Spent days chasing down cliff racers."

Aellana looked impressed. "I heard they were pretty difficult to find these days, and incredibly aggressive."

"There's a trick to it. You could always tell when one was coming. They're really noisy. Of course, hunting them is still dangerous, but that's what makes it such great sport."

They sat in awkward silence for a while, Aellana shuffling her feet and Bishop finally getting out his knife and fishing a half completed wooden wolf from his pocket. All the companionship of the night before as they'd enjoyed the Balmora Blue felt like it had flown away on the sea breeze, leaving them once again in the awkward state they'd reached after their altercation. It was Bishop who finally broke the silence.

"So, um, how does it feel to be the target of an assassination attempt?"

Aellana looked up in surprise. No one had asked her that yet. They'd just taken it in their stride and laughed about it as if it were perfectly normal. There was nothing normal at the moment, and she supposed she'd just accepted it as something that was part of her life now. But how did she feel about it really?

"I...don't know," she answered truthfully. "Everything's been such a whirlwind these last few weeks. It's just one crazy thing on top of another, and I've not even stopped to think about what that actually means."

"What do you think they want with you?"

"Well, I'm the Dragonborn. I don't know what that means, or what I'm meant to do, but it seems like everyone around me has their own ideas. I'm not about to try and understand a group of madmen who think I'm some kind of imposter. I mean, maybe I am?"

"Maybe. But motivation counts for a lot of things. You're definitely Dragonborn, but you're you first and foremost. You don't owe anyone anything."

She looked at him quizzically. She definitely felt the weight of expectation profoundly, but hearing someone say that it was ok just to be herself made her feel somehow calmer. That it should be the Ranger who said it was certainly surprising. Bishop was full of surprises.

Aellana cleared her throat and brought herself back to the present, changing the subject.

"That's a beautiful knife," she said, pointing to the small blade that Bishop moved expertly across the wood as he whittled. The miniature wolf was taking shape, and it didn't take much guesswork to know it was meant to be Karnwyr. Aellana glanced to where the real wolf was curled at Thaiden's feet offering him comfort as he retched over the side of the ship and smiled, turning back to Bishop. "Where did you get it? It's wonderful craftsmanship."

"This?" Bishop held it out for Aellana's closer inspection. "I've had it for years. Took it as a token from a Bandit back in the day." His eyes glassed over as if lost in a dream, and he looked out over the horizon as he delved deep into his memories. "I was seven, had barely even learned to use a bow. A group of bandits attacked my village and, well, I fought them off." He shrugged as if he were remembering the most mundane detail, and Aellana took the opportunity to study his face. He was expressionless, his eyes almost vacant as he remembered his childhood and she had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his cheek in her hand. But the spell was broken as his expression changed from one of remembrance to fierce anger as he turned to look directly at her. "I took this from one of the corpses and killed the last bandit with it. His mistake was seeing me as nothing but a boy who wouldn't make quick decisions and do what had to be done. It's sharp, it cuts deep, and it serves as a reminder that danger is always near."

Aellana turned the knife in her hand. The blade was thin and razor sharp. The haft was long and sturdy, fitting comfortably in a fist and she could see the slight indents where Bishop's fingers had gripped it over the years. He obviously looked after it. The haft was lacquered cherry wood, banded about with perfectly polished iron bands, the blade buffed to a mirror finish. It practically begged her to enhance it.

"I could enchant it for you, you know? It's what I'm trained for."

It was meant as a genuine offer, but she saw Bishop's face darken.

"No. Why would I need it enchanted? I just need it to cut, and it does that very well....want to feel?" Bishop leaned toward her, taking the knife roughly from her hand and holding it up menacingly. He was angry, Aellana could see that. Incredibly so, and danger emanated from him in rippling waves. But she wasn't frightened. Instead, she looked him directly in the eye, maintaining eye contact, letting him know she wouldn't be intimidated.

"Want to feel mine against your throat?" she countered, letting venom creep into her measured voice.

Bishop laughed at that and let the dagger drop. He already felt guilty about his overreaction, but he'd let himself be vulnerable in front of her, and for him, that was not a position that he could allow himself. Not with anyone.

"Are you rude like this with everyone?" Aellana snapped at him as he resheathed his knife.

"Of course!"

"Why?"

Bishop shrugged, caught off guard by the frankness of the question.

"Why waste time pretending to be someone else? The sooner people face up to the cold realities and harsh truths of the world, the better. There's too much pretence in the world already. I mean, I've seen the anger in your eyes when you bite your tongue rather than speak the truth. Don't you get tired of pretending people actually interest you, that you actually give a shit about them? Doesn't it frustrate you having to constantly submit to their fragile egos?"

"A noble sentiment, Bishop, but for someone who values truth and derides pretence, you certainly do a lot of evading and omission."

"Evasion and omission, eh?" Bishop was wowed by her hypocrisy. She wouldn't tell him anything personal and was actively keeping her identity from him, and yet felt she had the right to lecture him! "I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that, right?"

Aellana looked at him again, trying to read behind his words. But his face gave nothing away.

"Sometimes politeness is necessary to get what you want in the end. We both have secrets, Bishop, but if we're really honest with each other, then we keep those secrets for our own preservation, so don't give me that dis-honesty shit."

"You're a smart woman Aellana." He had to admit she was right. She obviously had secrets, but so did he. He couldn't fault her for the faults that he, himself, shared. "I wish more people were that self-aware."

"You have some serious trust issues."

"Don't trust anyone. Life's easier that way."

"What about faith? Do you have that?"

"I wouldn't waste my time with any of those worthless gods."

"I fully agree with you there. A lot of my family are religious, with shrines and sacrifices. They think their talent and worth comes from the Divines. I just think they don't give themselves enough credit. They do good work because they honed their talent, not because some Divine decided that they'd be better at something than someone else."

Bishop leaned in closer, studying her face intently as if seeing her for the first time. All the anger from just a few moments before had fled, and almost unconsciously he placed a hand on her cheek.

"You don't look like a mighty dragon slayer to me right now," he whispered intimately. "You look like a little girl who met a big, bad wolf and is alone, frightened, and doesn't know what to do with it.  There are forces at work here, bigger than both of us.  Don't lose the woman you are.  Don't let anyone else dictate your future.  You're perfect, just as you are."

Aellana was frozen to the spot. This moment of intimacy was so uncharacteristic for the Ranger and so perfectly mirrored her impulse from earlier that she inclined her head slightly, letting her cheek rest in his palm. Her breath started coming faster, and she felt him shake a little against her skin, the moment lengthening as they began to lean toward each other, his hand tightening to bring her face toward his.

The sound of Karnwyr whinnying as he yawned and stretched in the distance broke the spell. Aellana broke eye contact, shuffling backward, while Bishop snatched his hand away and looked to where the wolf was languidly butting his head against Thaiden's foot.

"So, um, how did you become a Ranger?" Aellana asked in an effort to break the awkward silence that had settled between them once again.

"Why all of this sudden interest?" Bishop's face whipped up, and she could once again see distrust in his eyes.

She shrugged. "I want to get to know you better."

"Ah, princess," Bishop leaned in close, his breath hot on her cheek as he whispered in her ear. "You don't need to hear my life story to do that." He leaned back and winked roguishly. But he was deflecting, using innuendo as a barrier, and Aellana was having none of it, especially not after that real moment they'd shared just a few seconds earlier. She just glared at him, and finally, Bishop raised his hands in exasperation. "Ah, fine. How did I become a Ranger? Like why anyone else sells themselves. I was raised with certain skills. The difference is that I was taught them to survive, not for profit. Not an honest kind of profit anyway."

"Your family were thieves?"

"Worse. Itinerant performers."

"I thought you said they were hunters? So you never had a home?  That story about the village was a lie?"

"Oh, I did. I grew up in a place called Redfallow's Watch. We'd return for the winter months, and in the summer months would travel Skyrim, hunting and living off the land where the troupe would entertain, and the children would pickpocket while the audience was distracted."

"Do you ever miss it?"

"No."

There was something in his face that told Aellana not to press the issue, so she didn't push the subject any further.

"So how did a childhood of petty crime lead to your current profession?"

"I started ranging about, what, seven years ago now? Word got around that I could track runaways or hunt meals for fat lazy nobles. Whatever. I didn't plan on it, but they had gold, I had a bow, so I became a Ranger. But what about the illustrious woman before me?" he said, twirling his hand in the air and bending at the waist in a mock bow. "You're so nosy about my life, so why don't you tell me a bit about yours?"

"I guess you could say I used to be a noble."

"Used to be? Ugh, great. Maybe I should have asked you to pay me after all."

Bishop looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to open up. This was her chance to come clean about who she was. He'd told her more about his former life than anyone had any business knowing. He desperately hoped she'd trust him enough to talk to him openly. But she just looked at him with panic.

Aellana desperately wanted to tell him everything, but she feared that if she started talking now she'd never stop. Bishop was too volatile, and she still didn't fully trust him. She couldn't afford to have all her secrets out in the open. Not yet.  Not while there were assassins and husbands-to-be out for her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Bishop stood up, and Aellana could tell he was angry.

"You know what? Our pasts are our pasts. We're not going to make the future any better by going on about them. As for the present, wasn't there somewhere we had to be going? Some long lost hat to be retrieving?" Aellana looked at him, pleading with him to understand. But the damage was done. "No? Well, if all else fails, there's always the bar. Sailors always have booze on hand, and I don't know about you, but I could sure use a drink."

"Bishop, wait..."

But he was gone, retreating below deck and leaving Aellana alone with Thaiden and Karnwyr. The wolf stretched, got up and padded silently after his master, and she could have sworn he threw her a disdainful glance as he followed Bishop below deck.

 _Great,_  she thought.  _Even the wolf hates me._


	12. Raven Rock

"Well, here we are. This is Raven Rock." Thaiden practically bowled Gjalund over in his haste to get off the ship as they slowly sailed into port. "Can't say I'm all that glad to see it again."

"Thank you, Gjalund. Truly," Aellana said, shaking the sailor's hand in gratitude. He smiled at her warmly.

"Good luck. Maybe you can figure out what's going on around here."

Thaiden's excitement at having his feet back on solid ground was infectious, despite the dark and gloomy atmosphere that seemed to permeate Raven Rock. The docks were bordered by a high, stone seawall which cast a shadow over the docked ships. The sky was dark and grey casting an otherworldly pallor over the town which felt oddly silent given the bustle of the port.

As they made their way further into the port town an angry looking Dunmer approached them.

"I don't recognise you, so I'll assume this is your first visit to Raven Rock, Outlander. State your intentions."

Bishop raised an eyebrow at the elf's rudeness but kept silent, allowing Aellana to take charge of the situation.

"I'm looking for Miraak. Do you know him?"

As soon as she said the name, the Dunmer got the same glassy-eyed look as Gjalund had when they'd first bartered passage. She shared a concerned glance with Bishop and Thaiden who both shrugged in confusion.

"Miraak? I...I'm not sure that I do..." The Dunmer's voice trailed off and as quickly as he'd forgotten what he was saying he seemed to jump right back to the reason he'd stopped them. "Just remember, Raven Rock is sovereign territory of the House Redoran. This is Morrowind, not Skyrim. While you're here, you will be expected to abide by our laws. Any questions?"

"Do you know who Miraak is?" she asked again, pointedly, angry at being ignored and ordered about.

"I...I'm unsure." There it was again. That glassy stare. "I swear I know the name, but I can't place it." The way he answered was curious. It was as if he'd forgotten she'd even asked the question the first time. Aellana couldn't tell if he was being naturally evasive, or if he'd honestly forgotten the question. The fact that it had happened when Miraak's name was mentioned hardly seemed coincidental.

"Can you tell me anything about him?"

"About who?"

"Miraak."

"Miraak? I'm not...the... the name has something to do with the...Earth Stone, I think. But I'm not sure what." The answer seemed to be a great deal of physical effort, and they left the elf silent and staring at the dock. Gjalund had been right, there was definitely something strange going on here.

Thaiden went off to buy supplies while Bishop and Aellana headed to a nearby Inn to try and barter some information from loose-tongued locals. It was always the same. If they mentioned Miraak's name, they'd receive nothing but vague musings and vacant looks. As soon as they changed the subject, conversation flowed as freely as the ale.

Thaiden joined them by their third mug of ale, and they decided to allow themselves a night in a warm bed before setting off in the morning. The Inn was old and smelled vaguely of fish, but it was still more welcoming than the dreary greyness of camping by the roads of Solstheim. Thaiden made the arrangements as Bishop called over a serving girl to bring another round of drinks. Aellana could already feel the buzz of alcohol, but she didn't care. The Ranger had barely spoken to her the rest of the sea journey, maintaining civil conversation only when necessity called for it. It would be welcome to lose herself in the oblivion of drink, even for just one night.

"I got us two rooms, and the Innkeeper has agreed to let Karnwyr sleep in the barn," Thaiden announced sitting back down at the table.

"Two?" Aellana queried. "I'm pretty sure you haven't drunk enough to lose the ability to count to three Thaiden. And last I checked, there were three of us."

"Yes, thank you, Lana," Thaiden replied giving her a withering look. "I'm quite aware that there's three of us, but we're in a land where someone wants you dead. There's no way I'm leaving you alone. We're sharing a room tonight."

"That's a bit presumptive wouldn't you say?" Bishop glared at Thaiden over the rim of his ale.

"That is decidedly none of your concern, Ranger."

Bishop was nonplussed by Thaiden's curt manner and just shrugged, finishing his mug of ale in one gulp and calling for another. The serving girl brought it with a smile, and with surprise, Aellana noticed the coquettish way she inclined her head at Bishop as he gruffly thanked her. Bishop must have seen too because all of a sudden his demeanour changed. The sulking, brooding air he'd been wearing like a cloak fell away, quickly replaced with charm and confidence.

The girl was pretty in a saccharine kind of way, Aellana had to admit to herself. She was small and buxom, with pink skin and a smattering of freckles. A halo of blonde curls framed her perfectly heart-shaped face, roughly gathered back to accentuate her high cheekbones and full lips. Bishop followed the girl back to the bar, and Aellana felt herself frowning as she saw her giggle as Bishop leaned in close to whisper something in her ear. He pressed a kiss into her palm, his eyes lingering at the ample swell of her breasts above her bodice, winking at her as he walked away leaving the girl to titter childishly with a friend as they stared after him.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but my night just got a lot more interesting," he said with a wink, standing beside the table to finish his ale. He was done in seconds, holding out his hand to Thaiden for his room key. Thaiden handed it over without a word, and before either of them could say a thing, Bishop was heading upstairs.

"Well, that just happened," Thaiden said laughingly as Aellana choked on a mouthful of ale. He looked at her, concern on his face, surprised at the frown he saw there. "You okay, Lana?"

"Yeah, fine," she replied a little too quickly, forcing a smile to her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm just tired, and I don't know about you but I need another drink."

She moved to call the serving girl over but found she wasn't surprised when she was gone, replaced by another woman who was already approaching with another round of drinks.

 

* * *

 

Two rounds later Thaiden had left Aellana to check on Karnwyr and settle him in the barn for the night. She headed upstairs, swaying slightly on her feet, the alcohol numbing her senses. She held their room key out in front of her trying to stop the letters from swimming in her vision. She looked at the key and then at the doors. All the rooms had fish names, which she would have found cute if not for the fact that it was so entirely on the nose.   _Literally_ , she thought to herself, wrinkling her nose in disgust.  She made her way slowly up the corridor looking for her room.

A feminine giggling tinkled through the otherwise silent corridor, and Aellana followed the sound. The laughter was coming from a door that was, she realised, right next to her own. She moved to enter her room, but stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the adjoining door that stood ajar, giving her a full view of its occupants.

There stood Bishop, completely naked, the serving girl on her knees in front of him, head bobbing rhythmically. Aellana stared, mouth hanging open as the girl's lips moved up and down as she took the ranger deeper and deeper into her waiting mouth. Her eyes shifted to Bishop's face and started in shock as she realised he was staring straight at her. He knew she was there, and as she watched, a fiendish expression broke over his face as he reached down to tangle a hand in the girl's blonde curls, which were now spilling freely over her bare back.

With one swift movement, Bishop thrust forward, holding the girl's head in place as she made a pleasured choking sound. Her own hands darted forward, grabbing his hips as she pulled him deeper with each thrust.

Aellana felt her skin begin to tingle, her breath coming fast and shallow as she felt herself moisten watching Bishop's muscles flex and harden as he quickened his pace. He watched her intently as she began to tremble with desire, seeing him coming closer and closer to orgasm. She knew she shouldn't be here, watching this, but she couldn't turn away. Seeing Bishop like this, knowing he saw her, somehow made it all the more exciting. She wanted to charge into the room, take his face in her hands and kiss him deeply, but she didn't. She stayed where she was, perfectly still, watching him take his pleasure with another woman.

It wasn't long before she saw his eyelashes flutter in anticipation of release. He quickened the pace, his thrusting becoming rougher as the girl at his feet mewled with desire and expectation. With force, he buried himself to the hilt, the girl taking his whole length with a surprised squeak as he came. He held her there, pushing himself deeper as he spent himself in her waiting mouth, grunting in satisfaction as she finally pulled away.

Aellana licked her lips which were suddenly very dry as she realised she'd hardly breathed through the whole spectacle. Bishop, still looking at her raised an arm and opened his mouth as if to say something, but just as he did, the girl rose, pulling Bishop's face down to her own in a deep and passionate kiss, which only took him a moment to return, and just like that the spell was broken.

Without a sound, Aellana quickly turned and entered her own room, and when Bishop broke the kiss to look up, she was gone.

Thaiden returned a minute later to find Aellana reclined on their bed, completely naked.

"Take me, Thaiden," was all she said, and he needed no further invitation.

 

* * *

 

Thaiden felt bruised the next morning. Aellana had been wild and fierce the night before, taking him roughly and forcefully as if her very life depended on it. There had been something different about last night. It was as if he hadn't even been there as she abandoned herself completely to desire. It had made it more intense as they'd both lost themselves in the moment without thought for anything else, not even each other. It had been a desperate coupling, ultimately satisfying but had left them both feeling a little battered when they'd woken up.

Now they sat at the same table from last night, picking at some bread and cheese and sipping at dark, bitter coffee waiting for Bishop who sauntered into the bar with a cheerful swagger, followed closely by the serving girl, who giggled and kissed him shyly as he took his leave to join them at the table.

"Had a good night?" Thaiden asked the Ranger with a wink.

Bishop laughed easily, "do you even need to ask? How about you Aellana," he said, turning to her with a mischievous grin. "Get up to anything interesting last night? See anything you liked?"

She knew she was blushing and cursed herself for letting her emotions show so plainly on her face.

"I..." she began to stammer out, but Bishop interrupted.

"Seriously, I'm surprised you two didn't keep the whole Inn awake last night, you were so loud."

Thaiden choked on his coffee. It hadn't even occurred to him that there was only a thin wall separating their room from Bishop's. The Ranger had heard everything, and as he looked over to where the serving girl was preparing Bishop's coffee she gave him a knowing wink, and he felt himself blush.

"Well, looks like we all got what we wanted last night then," Aellana said with more calm than she felt.

"Looks like," Bishop countered with an unreadable look.

 

* * *

 

Despite the evening's other excitements Thaiden and Aellana had managed to get enough information out of the locals to find the Earth Stone that the Dunmer had mentioned on their arrival. They'd travelled in companionable silence, preferring to take in the unique Solstheim landscape rather than filling the air with inane chatter.

The shrine itself was just outside of Raven Rock and took barely any time to get to. They'd seen the haze of pulsing green behind the hill as they approached. The shrine was half built, with a glowing green stone at its centre. Workers bustled around the site, mumbling to themselves under their breath. Aellana tried to engage a few in conversation, but they didn't even seem to register they were there. She shared a concerned look with Bishop and Thaiden. There was something seriously strange going on.

"You there," Aellana turned around in surprise to find the source of the voice. A few feet away, near the glowing stone, a Dunmer priest was waving at them. "You don't seem to be in quite the same state as the others here," he called, his voice standing out against the still mumbling that filled the air around them. "Very interesting. May I ask what it is you are doing here?"

"I'm looking for someone named Miraak."

"Miraak..." Just like everyone else, his face took on a confused expression as it seemed like his mind was trying to force somethign to the surface. "Miraak...it sounds familiar, but I can't quite place ..." The priest frowned and creased his face in obvious concentration as if the memory was just there, out of reach. "Oh, wait I recall!" Aellana looked at him expectantly. This was the first time they'd managed to get this far with their questioning. "But wait, that makes very little sense. Miraak's been dead for thousand's of years." Aellana's face fell. It seemed the closer they got to answers the more elusive those answers were becoming.

"What does that mean?" Thaiden refused to be put off that easily. Someone was coming after Aellana, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to do everything he could to find out why.

"I'm not sure, but it is fascinating isn't it?" The spell on the priest seemed to break. "Perhaps it has some relation to what's going on here," he said, gesturing to the construction happening all around them. "I'm afraid I can't give you any answers, but there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak's toward the centre of this island. If I were you, I'd look there."

The priest returned to taking his notes as he observed the workers, and Bishop shifted back to Thaiden and Aellana.

"Does anyone get the feeling that this is turning into a bit of a wild goose chase?"

"No one seems to be able to give us a straight answer," Aellana agreed. "Let's look around here first, see if there's anyone else who can help us."

They made their way through the throngs of workers, trying to get their attention. But it was useless. None of them seemed aware that they were even there, and didn't interrupt the words they were mumbling to themselves for even a second.

Aellana gave up on trying to get information out of the workers and instead made her way to the centre of the shrine, wading through ankle-deep water to get to the stone that glowed at its centre. It pulsed with a dark, green light, and the closer she got the more beautiful she realised it was. It was mesmerising. Within moments she stood before it, arms outstretched, only dimly aware of Thaiden's panicked voice in the background, begging her not to touch it.

But it was too late. As her hand made contact with the cool stone, the world stood still, and in the silence echoed words that seemed to appear in her mind, unbidden.

"...when the world shall listen, and when the world shall see..." Then everything went dark.

Thaiden was at her side in seconds, followed closely by Bishop. As Aellana touched the stone, they saw her go rigid. Thaiden grabbed her and pulled her back, but it was too late. One look at her face told them she was gone. Her eyes were vacant, her face expressionless as she began to work, just like all the others.

Bishop was beside her in seconds, taking her face in his hands, worry making his voice break as he called her name over and over again. Thaiden kept moving her hands away from the tasks she was trying to do, hoping that distracting her from her goal would help break the spell. But nothing changed. Aellana's face remained blank, and her body seemed to move with a will other than her own as if she were being controlled by a force stronger than herself.

"Come on Aellana," Bishop groaned as the time kept passing with no change. Thaiden had already sunk to the ground in resignation, head in his hands as grief overtook him, but Bishop refused to give in. He grabbed her whole body, crushing it to his own, whispering in her ear, "please," over and over in desperation as she mechanically tried to struggle from his grasp. The more she struggled, the tighter he held her, repeating his desperate plea as Thaiden joined the embrace, the two men finally kept her completely still through their combined strength.

Aellana felt the crush of their bodies through the darkness and latched onto the whispered pleas that sounded in her ear. She forced herself through the fog that clouded her mind, struggling to reach the two men who refused to give up on her. Sounds and words swirled through her head, confusing her, trying to drown out Bishop's voice, but she focused herself, refusing to let the voices control her.

Bishop gasped in relief as he felt Aellana's arms tighten around him. The movement was organic, no longer the mechanical struggling that had punctuated the morning so far. He looked at Thaiden, seeing his relief mirrored there, and within moments he saw recognition in Aellana's eyes as she came to. As her movement returned to her, the workers all mumbled something at once.

"That world will cease to be."

Bishop and Thaiden shared a look. It was obvious that something was very wrong here, but they barely had time to consider it before Aellana collapsed into Bishop's arms. He caught her and held her tight, looking at Thaiden.

"This is more than just about Aellana being the Dragonborn. Something bigger is going on here.  I think we might have started something that is more than we can handle."

Thaiden couldn't disagree.  This was more than any of them had bargained for.


	13. Temple of Waking Dreams

Aellana was exhausted, but they couldn't allow themselves the luxury of rest. What had happened at the Earth Stone had spooked them all into action, and within moments of her recovery, the three had wasted no time in gathering their things and beginning the journey to the Temple of Miraak, where they hoped they'd finally receive some answers.

The greyness that had already been evident at Raven Rock became even more pervasive the further they moved from civilisation. The landscape was devoid of colour, and soon it seemed that even they themselves were losing their vibrancy. Bishop glanced over to Aellana who was already looking tired and drawn after her ordeal at the stone, but on closer inspection, he realised it was more than that. He reached out, taking a strand of her hair between his fingers and rubbing them, making her jump in surprise. She gave him a quizzical look, and he looked down at the dark leather of his own armour, dragging a finger across the sleeve.

"Ash", he said simply, just as Thaiden stopped in his tracks, cresting the hill up ahead. Between the trees they could see a large plume of smoke curling upward, spreading across the skyline. They realised that for the last few hours of walking the volcano that peeked lazily over the horizon had been spewing ash into the atmosphere, letting it rain down around them coating everything it touched in a layer of grey dust.

"Red Mountain," breathed Thaiden in awe.

"It's....huge."

"What did you expect from one of the most destructive forces in Skyrim, ladyship?" Bishop sounded dismissive, but never took his eyes from the black, belching Volcano in the distance.

"Is 'ladyship' going to be a permanent thing now, Bishop?" 

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know, kinda suits you, don't you think?" He stalked off over the hill, breaking the spell of awe that the appearance of the volcano had cast over all of them.

"It makes me sound like my mother," she grumbled at the Ranger's retreating back, and Aellana glared at Thaiden as he guffawed, overhearing her muttered words.

She made to move after the two men but let out a scream as something grabbed her ankle, toppling her. Bishop and Thaiden whipped around, just in time to see a hand retreating into an ash pile that Aellana had accidentally stood in, coating her boots in soft, grey residue up to the ankle. She stood, dusting herself off, quickly unsheathing her sword, ready to see what it was that had grabbed her.

As they watched, the ash shook and heaved. At first, it seemed to be breathing, pulsing with an internal rhythm, but soon they realised that the ash was shifting and swirling, forming a crouched figure that slowly unfurled itself to the height of a tall man. They smelled burning flesh as it moved, and puffs of smoke curled from the shambling body. It screamed, opening its mouth wide where they could see nothing but blackness. But its eyes! Gods, its eyes were glowing, red embers, fixing them with its gaze as it stumbled toward them.

Thaiden was the first to recover from the shock. He ran at the creature, sword slashing downward. It barely made an impact. Every blow landed, but the creature just kept coming. Aellana tried to neutralise it with a burst of ice from her hands, but it crystalised, dropping shards to the ground in a pretty, but useless glittering pile at the creature's feet where it melted, leaving the ground sodden. Karnwyr ducked and wove trying to trip the thing up but it barely registered he was there, and Bishop's arrows bounced uselessly from its body, like hail on stone.

Aellana whistled to Karnwyr to leave the ash creature alone as an idea came to her, and the wolf immediately bounded clear as she focused her magic on the sodden ground at the thing's feet, rather than on its body. The earth bubbled and shook, rooting the creature's feet to the ground in the muddy mire her ice crystals had created. Bishop let an arrow fly just as it screamed in anger, burying the shaft deep into its gaping maw. Thaiden threw his blade to the side, landing a single, heavy punch to the thing's head and it went down, crumbling back into ash, its glowing eyes dropping to the ground where they slowly blinked, and then went out.

"What the hell was that?" Aellana stood panting. She had never seen anything like it.

"Ash Spawn," said Bishop matter of factly. "They started appearing in Morrowind around the time the Dunmer had to flee the eruptions." He was sifting through the remaining ash curiously. "I've never seen one before, only heard stories."

"Where do they come from?"

"No one really knows for sure. Some think they're the reanimated souls of deceased Dunmer brought back to life through the power of the volcano, or the Gods, or some other superstitious nonsense. Who knows. As long as I can kill it, I don't care."

"We'll have to be careful from here on out." Thaiden was resheathing his greatsword, adjusting it so it was within easy reach on his back. "They could pop up anywhere."

Both Bishop and Aellana nodded in agreement as they walked on in wary silence looking out for even the slightest movement. The landscape turned from ash-covered trees to toppled stone ruins. The architecture was a mix of Dwarven and Elvish, and Aellana found herself wondering how many civilisations had grown up and been destroyed in the shadow of Red Mountain. It was a harsh place to live, and she found deep-seated respect for anyone who would choose this inhospitable land as their home.

She was so lost in thought that she forgot to watch the path ahead and nearly tripped on something sticking up out of the ground. She gave a startled yelp, turning to see what had tripped her, expecting it to be a tree root or something similar. Instead, she stopped dead, calling to Bishop and Thaiden who hurried to her side.

"Gods, is that..." Thaiden breathed.

"A dragon skeleton?" Aellana gave him a pointed look. "Yes."

"Miraak seems connected to the Dragonborn. This can't be a coincidence."

He was right. Dragon bones littered the path forward. They increased in density as they approached a temple built atop a hill, the path giving way to vaulted archways that put them in mind of a cathedral. The arches spiralled upward along a mountain path until they realised they were no longer alone. They began to see workers, just like those at the Earth Stone, Dunmer this time, mindlessly tooling and mumbling to themselves in that mechanical way. It made Aellana shiver in remembrance, and Bishop shot her a concerned look which she chose to ignore. The higher they got, the more numerous they became, until they came out onto a broad plateau surrounded by vaulted archways that surrounded another green, glowing stone like they'd seen near Raven Rock.

Despite the constant murmur of the workers, a voice stood out. Amidst the Dunmer were a handful of Nord, working absently at a column of stone. Beside them stood another Nord woman begging and pleading, trying to drag a woman away from where she worked.

"Irsa, can you hear me?" the woman pleaded. "It's not safe here. Please, we must go back to the village." The woman's voice was breaking as she uselessly tugged at the other woman's arm, begging her to return from wherever her mind was being held.

Thaiden was already on his way over to her as Bishop and Aellana followed, startling her as he put a comforting hand on her back.

"What brings you to this place," she asked warily turning to face Thaiden. "Why are you here?"

Distrust clouded her features, but despite this Thaiden had to admit she was uncommonly beautiful. Where Aellana's blonde hair was harsh, like ice, this woman's was warm and soft, like spun corn in the autumn twilight. Her skin was pale and perfect, cheekbones high, accentuating her piercing, ocean blue eyes ringed by surprisingly dark lashes given the blonde hair that fanned down to her cheeks when she blinked. Her jaw was square and strong, her lips full and sensual, and Thaiden found himself lost for words, merely staring like a startled deer as the woman's frown deepened.

"Sorry, who are you?" Aellana asked, trying to relieve the awkwardness of Thaiden's silence.

"I asked first."

"I'm Aellana, these are Bishop and Karnwyr," she said gesturing to the Ranger and his wolf who stood slightly off to the side, sharing an amused look at Thaiden's discomfort. "And this is...."

"Thaiden!" He interrupted, almost yelling it and the woman in front of him raised an eyebrow. "Sorry," he cleared his throat. "I'm Thaiden."

"I am Frea of the Skaal." She inclined her head graciously giving Thaiden an unreadable look as she turned toward Aellana.

"What brings you here, Frea?"

"I'm trying to save my people." She gestured at the Nord woman who still worked tirelessly beside them. "Failing that, I will avenge them."

"Do you know what it is you're saving or avenging them from?"

"No," Frea sighed in resignation. "Something is taking control of the people of Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves and who they are. They work, day and night, never ceasing, building these horrible temples that corrupt the stones and the very land itself."

"Is that what they're doing? Corrupting mystical places? Do you know why?"

"My father, Storn, our Shaman, says that Miraak has returned to Solstheim, but that is impossible," she said, shaking her head.

"But that's why I'm here!" Aellana was excited. This is the closest she had to a lead since they'd arrived. "This Miraak person tried to have me killed!"

"Then it is true." Frea looked sad and shaken, glancing at the woman beside her with pity and pain. " He has returned." She turned back to Aellana. "There's nothing more I can do here. The Tree Stone and my friends are beyond what help I can offer. We both have reason to see what lies below us. We need to find a way inside the temple."

"Can you tell us anything about Miraak?" Thaiden appeared to have found his voice again, his tone business-like and measured.

"His story is as old as Solstheim itself. He served the Dragons before their fall from power, as most did. He was a priest in their order. But unlike most, he turned against them. He made his own path, and his actions cost him dearly. The stories say he sought to claim Solstheim for himself, and the Dragons destroyed him for it."

"Going up against dragons doesn't seem like a good career move," Bishop snorted derisively. Aellana couldn't help but agree. But Frea just shrugged.

"Good idea or not, that's how the stories go."

"Well, I suggest we find out if there's any truth in them." Bishop made his way to some nearby stairs that descended into the Temple below. He whistled to Karnwyr, and the two made their way downward, disappearing from view, leaving the others to follow.

Bishop hadn't got far before he stopped dead in his tracks, Karnwyr whimpering in the dim firelight of the first chamber. The fire flickered, painting strange shadows on the walls of the corridor as Aellana made her way up behind him to see what it was that had spooked him into stillness.

A large fire pit was lit in the centre of the room, casting twisting and tortured shadows on the walls. Suspended above them were dozens of corpses, bodies displayed in a rictus of pain, and Aellana suspected they'd been alive when hung there, slowly roasting to death over the open flame.

"Gods, what a terrible way to die," she breathed, and Bishop was surprised by the genuine pain he saw there. He'd never been an empathetic person. These people had been dead for years, most likely, and while he was struck by the gruesomeness of the display, he didn't feel for the corpses as people. Aellana it seems, did. She didn't see a gruesome tableau. She saw real people, in real pain. It shamed him a little.

They continued further into the temple in respectful silence. Bishop took point after the first trap. His skills as a Ranger were more suited to warn them when they were likely to be bombarded by poison arrows or spiked blockades. They managed to surprise a few cultists on the way through the temple who attacked them on sight, but it was nothing they couldn't handle, and they dispatched them quickly and efficiently, silently continuing on their way.

With short-lived relief after the close confines of the downward spiralling corridors and stairways, they finally emerged into a large, central chamber with more bodies suspended over a significant drop. Frea let out a cry, finally letting her emotions catch up to her. She'd been bottling them in up to this point, trying to focus on the task at hand, but this new batch of bodies was too much for her to bear.

"What tortures did they suffer at Miraak's hands?" she sobbed out. "Why...how could someone do this?" Thaiden was beside her in seconds, and she let him put a comforting arm around her, leaning into him as she fought back tears. "Was it in service to the dragons, or for his own purposes? What makes a man do the unthinkable?"

Aellana didn't have an answer. She opened her mouth to try and offer words of comfort but was cut short by a panicked exclamation from Bishop.

"Look up there! I think I see something." He pointed upward, toward a circle of tombs above them, and as they watched, Draugr began to appear.  They were so focused on what was happening above them that they almost missed the cultists emerging from the pit of bodies below.  They'd hidden among the corpses and Aellana felt the bile rise in her throat.

"It's a trap!" Frea cried out in surprise, her own green complexion mirroring Aellana's own. They sprung to action, even Frea who proved herself a cunning warrior.

"Stick together. Bishop and I will take the top, you two take the bottom." Aellana and Bishop were the strongest at ranged combat, and they wouldn't have time to make it up to the tombs above. Frea and Thaiden would have to manage with the cultists on the ground.

After a volley of arrows from Bishop's bow (Aellana could have sworn she saw him shoot three at once) and an arc of flame from Aellana that set a row of undead alight, they focused their attention to the cultists and undead that were emerging steadily from the pit. Aellana ran forward as Thaiden was about to be overwhelmed, nearly setting off a cunningly placed trip wire suspended over the stairs that led further down into the tomb. Bishop grabbed her, sweeping her into his arms as her foot almost connected with the wire, pressing her body to his own.

"Watch your step, princess,' he whispered into her hair.  "Can't be having you fall and expecting me to carry you out of this damned place." He held her for a moment longer, but a pained grunt from Frea broke the spell, and they quickly helped dispatch the remaining undead, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake as they moved ever downward.

As the last Draugr fell, the silence was deafening. They were tired, and no one could think of a thing to say. What they'd already experienced in this place seemed etched into their minds, the horror of it would not be soon forgotten.

"Do try not to set off any more traps will you?" Bishop said jokingly, in an effort to relieve the tension.

"It's not a mistake I'm going to repeat, Bishop. If anyone is likely to do that it's you."

Aellana nimbly avoided a trap trigger just in time, turning to warn Bishop, but it was too late. He walked right into it, narrowly avoiding being crushed by a spiked door that snapped in from the side of the corridor, ready to impale him to the wall.

"See, told you," she said with a wink, making light of his brush with death as Bishop blew out the breath he'd been holding. She'd felt a deep panic like she'd never known before as the trap had sprung. Her body was shaking, her mind in turmoil, but she wasn't prepared to let it show. The Ranger was far too arrogant. He didn't need to know how much his death would affect her. He was alive, and that was all that mattered.

They moved past rows of tombs, dispatching Draugr as they went. After Bishop's near miss they were all hyper-alert, and when Bishop cried out a warning from behind her, Aellana was already dodging backwards, narrowly avoiding a jet of flame that had burst out of the ground, ready to engulf her.

"Thanks," she mumbled as Bishop helped her up. Together they turned to face what the flame had been protecting. The heavy doors had opened with the activation of the trap, and just beyond they looked in horror at a dark, wide room with an iron gate at the far end. The terror they felt came from row upon row of swinging, bladed pendulums that blocked their progress. The sharp blades glinted in the firelight as they danced and swayed, marred only by the odd bloodstain, matching the location of an ancient body lying on the cold, stone ground.

"I'm not going in there!" Frea's voice was tinged with fear and panic. "Please, I'm not a warrior, and I'm no good to my people dead." She looked pleadingly at the others, and Aellana couldn't fault her words. If she'd been faced with this the first time she'd entered a dungeon she'd probably have had the same reaction and just run home to marry Gunmar Jurgarinson, forced marriage be damned, to avoid having to enter that chamber.

Thaiden gave Frea a comforting pat on the arm and turned to Aellana. "She's right, we have a much better chance at making it through these traps.  We've got this."

"There's no 'we'." Aellana had made the decision. "There's no point us all risking our lives. You three stay here. There's a lever at the other end that looks like it turns the blades off. I'll switch it off, and you can follow me when it's safe."

"Like hell I am!" Bishop made as if to dash through the doorway.

"Bishop, stop. This is not up for discussion. We came here because of me. This is my risk to bear, and I'm not having anyone else's life on my conscience." Without even a glance backwards she walked through the doorway and faced the rows of swinging pendulums. She stood for a few moments, getting a feel for the rhythm, learning the speed and pattern to at least give herself a fighting chance.

A moment later she'd stepped nimbly past the first pendulum, her heart fluttering as she felt the air move as the blade whooshed past her head. She was aware of her three companions staring at her. She could almost feel their eyes boring into the back of her head, accentuated further by Karnwyr's tense whinnying. But with the first part over she felt more confident. There was a trick to it. Nimbly she stepped through to the next row, delicately ducking and weaving with the rhythm of the swings. Bishop thought she'd never looked more beautiful. The danger was palpable, but her movements were strong, graceful, almost like a dance. The look of concentration on her face made her look fierce and wild. She was so unlike any of the noble ladies he'd ever known.

Aellana was at the end, with only one pendulum left to dodge. She turned to smile at her companions, but as she did so, a stone fell from the ceiling striking her on the shoulder and making her lose her footing. Bishop stared wide-eyed, letting out a strangled cry as he saw her own eyes fill with panic as she fell. Time seemed to still, and he moved to run forward with no thought for his own safety but found that Thaiden was pulling him back. He struggled and cried, but the larger Nord held him tight, and all he could do was watch as Aellana fell toward the swinging pendulum aimed right at her neck. She jerked her body to the side, but they saw her go down, body sprawled on the floor as the pendulum swung back, slicked with blood. She didn't move.

Bishop broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Frea stood in stunned silence, and Thaiden was pale and shocked, looking down at the broken Ranger, surprised at the emotion that he saw there. Karnwyr howled at his master's pain, and Thaiden knelt beside him, placing an arm on Bishop's shoulder as the man began to retch.

"You'd think someone had died the way you were all carrying on!" 

They all looked up in shock as Aellana's voice carried across the expanse. There she stood, grinning at them all, holding her arm to her side to staunch the blood the flowed freely from a deep wound that had severed the tough leather of her armour. She quickly pulled the lever, and the pendulums sheathed themselves deep into the wall, giving her companions safe passage.

They were at her side in moments, Thaiden taking clean bandages from his pack and handing her a healing draught which she gratefully downed in one. Karnwyr happily licked her hand, but Bishop barely said a word. He was still pale and stood off to the side while Frea and Thaiden fussed over her. She looked at him, but he wouldn't meet her eye, embarrassed at his display of vulnerability. The truth was that he hardly even understood his reaction himself, let alone could have explained it if anyone had asked why it had happened.

Once Aellana's wound was covered, and the healing potion had started to take effect Frea embraced her.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You barely know me, but you were willing to take such a risk. Thank you."

Aellana smiled at her. The risk hadn't been for Frea. She'd have done it even if she hadn't joined them, but she still appreciated the woman's gratitude.

"Miraak has gone to a lot of effort to make it difficult to reach him, it seems," Aellana said matter of factly. "Let's hope this is the last of these traps. I'm not sure I could survive another one." She smiled at her companions. Surely the worst was over. How could anyone top a room full of pendulums?

Thaiden and Frea forged ahead, relief at having survived so long making them lighter, their movements careless. They happily chatted as they moved deeper into the temple, barely looking at where they were going.  It seemed they fully expected the worst to be behind them, but Aellana and Bishop shared a pointed, knowing look and hurried forward to keep the other two focused. They caught up to the pair just as they entered another chamber, but Aellana was on high alert, sensing danger immediately.

"Careful!" Frea stopped dead in her tracks, turning back to Aellana who gestured furiously. "There are traps all over the floor." Frea went pale and quickly took a few steps back, letting Bishop and Aellana take the lead again as cultists flooded out of the corridors toward the back of the room where they'd been obscured by a false wall.

Aellana narrowly avoided taking an arrow to the face as she quickly jumped out of the way of an attacking cultist. She let a stream of flame fly, but the man was already downed, an arrow protruding from his eye. She heard Bishop's voice behind her.

"If any of you hurt her, I'll kill you!" 

With every attack that came her way, Bishop was there, downing any cultist that drew near. She was surprised at him, but couldn't really analyse what any of that could mean right now. They all had to watch their footing as the room was still filled with traps, and cultists were coming out of the walls thick and fast. Aellana and Bishop held the front, using ranged attacks to thin the numbers while Thaiden and Frea attacked at close quarters, finishing off those that managed to break through.

Soon enough the fight was over, and they had to pick their way over the pile of bodies at their feet to get to the other side of the room. They were exhausted and bloody. It was an effort just to stay upright, and Thaiden caught Frea as she visibly swayed on her feet.

"Here," offered Aellana as she fished a stamina potion out of her pack. "I've only go the one, but we're only as strong as our weakest member." Thaiden looked at her gratefully as he tipped Frea's head back, forcing her to down the bitter liquid. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she mumbled her thanks as they continued.  Aellana was dimly aware of Thaiden's increasingly attentive behaviour to the other woman.  If they survived this, she made a mental note to sit down and talk to him about it.  If he was planning on pursuing something with someone else, they probably had to talk about their own relationship, or whatever they wanted to call it.

"How much deeper can this be?" cried Frea weakly as they walked on and on. "I'd been told that Miraak's power was great, but to have built so large a temple? Surely it can't be much farther?"

They all agreed. The temple was huge. It must have been hiding something of great importance to Miraak for him to go to all this trouble. Almost on cue, the path widened into an open room where bodies were suspended on fences around a walkway above them. Dozens and dozens of them were chained to the bars, each of them twisted in poses of pain and terror. Aellana felt her blood run cold and they all stood silently. Thaiden was the first to speak.

"I don't know what Miraak learned to make him turn on the dragons, but his path seems to have been a cruel one." Frea nodded in agreement. "I really hope this is all worth it and that we find some answers. I wish I'd never seen this place."

But what they found next only raised more questions. The chamber led to a smaller room where they all stopped in awe. From the ceiling, suspended by chains, was the body of a long-dead dragon. It had died screaming, and in pain, its face still caught in a grimace of agony as it stared down at them, threatening even in death.

"I had heard Miraak turned against the Dragon Cult," Frea whispered into the silence. "But to display the remains like this? No wonder the dragons razed this temple to the ground. He's strung up like a trophy."

Aellana just stared at the dragon. Despite being dead, it's vacant, dead eyes seemed to stare straight into her soul. She was mesmerised and barely registered Bishop trying to talk to her, concern etched into every word. Without warning her head exploded into waves of white, hot pain. Voices bombarded her mind with chants and cries, and she cried out, looking around in a panic until she saw it. There, on the side of the room stood a word wall with the ancient dragon script etched into it. But this one was different. Stronger. Bishop was trying to hold her, but she looked pleadingly at him, gesturing for him to help her to the wall. Together they stumbled toward it,  Aellana crying out as wave after wave of agony filtered through her mind.

"Something feels wrong," she managed to grind out, fighting down nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. "Brace yourselves." With one final push, she connected with the wall, placing her palm on it and letting the light wash over her as the word embedded itself into her mind.

**"MUL!"**

The second she connected with the wall, the room began to shake, the ground trembling as Frea, Thaiden and Bishop drew their weapons. Aellana couldn't move. Her head was still pounding, but she could feel the pain dimming with every passing moment. The room was filling with Draugr, and Karnwyr was weaving between them, nipping at heels, slowing them down so Bishop, Thaiden and Frea could mow them down. They were so deep in concentration that they didn't see the large Draugr emerge from a coffin behind them. Aellana forced herself to her feet as the figure moved toward Bishop, launching herself at it, fighting through the pain as she stabbed at it again and again. She kept plunging her sword down, and down until she felt someone grab her hand, whipping her head about, a wild look in her eyes.

"Aellana," she looked about, unable to focus on who was talking, wondering why she couldn't move her hand. "Lana!" The nickname snapped her out of it, and she realised with a surprise that it was Bishop that had used it. All the other Draugr were dead. She'd been stabbing a long-dead corpse, and her companions were looking at her with barely concealed concern.

"Sorry, I...." her voice trailed off as she looked down at the corpse she'd been attacking. She saw something glint in the folds of the armour scraps it wore and held it up to the light curiously.

"It's a key!" Frea exclaimed in surprise, busying herself, trying to find where it would fit. Within moments she'd found it. A hidden door inside the coffin from which the Draugr had emerged.

Opening it revealed a banquet room, a long table set with rotting food, skeletons displayed in a gruesome tableau as if in welcome.

"We've got to be close," Thaiden remarked as he moved through the room. But what they saw on the side made their faces fall in disappointed. All they found was a large dining hall and a kitchen. They searched the area, but it was a dead end. There was nowhere left to go.

"Impossible!" Frea's voice was strong and determined. "This can't be it. There has to be something more. We've come this far, and I refuse to give up now." She moved toward the dining hall, taking charge. "I'll check in here, one of you take the kitchen. There's got to be something we're missing." Aellana shared a glance with Thaiden who looked impressed at her no-nonsense attitude.  A far cry from the frightened woman who had refused to navigate the trap earlier. He hastened after her, indicating for Bishop to take another look around the kitchen. She made as if to rise from the chair in which she'd collapsed to rest, but Bishop pushed her back down.

"I've got this. You need to rest. You're no good to us dead on your feet." And with that, he was gone, rattling his way through kitchen cupboards in search of something, anything that could help them on their way. Moments later his voice rang out from a nearby storage room. "Found something! Let me know if it does anything."

A rasping sound, like stone grinding on stone, rang out from the dining hall, and Frea let out an excited yelp.

"I knew it! A secret passage just opened up. This must be it. Let's move, quickly."

Aellana and Bishop shared a look at Frea's newly found confidence, hurrying after her in amusement. Despite their exhaustion, the excitement of mystery was palpable. Books littered the room beyond, and even Thaiden could scarcely hide his excitement as they moved onward, picking up tomes as they went.

"I wonder if there's something here that can tell us the story of Miraak?"

Bishop held up a burned tome, wrinkling his nose as he turned it over in his hands.

"Nothing here but ruined books."

"Have a look at these," Aellana called to her companions. "I don't recognise this statuary, but they're getting more frequent the further we go into the temple. I noticed a few earlier." The statues were huge and were of a creature that she'd never seen before. They looked like a cross between a fish and a lizard, and she had to admit, they were more than a little frightening.

"I don't like this place," said Frea, mirroring Aellana's thoughts almost exactly. "It almost looks as if the statues could come to life at any moment."

"It's too quiet. Stay on your guard. This doesn't bode well."

Twisting corridors and staircases led them further and further down, finally opening out into a central esplanade with more of the unusual statuary surrounded by vaulted columns. In the very centre, as if meant to strike fear into the heart of anyone daring to enter the temple stood a dragon's head, its severed wings fanning out behind it like a crown. Aellana had to admit to herself it was quite effective. None of them was surprised when the dead swarmed toward them, but Aellana was prepared. She shot out a flame trap as they approached, and the majority of the horde fell in one go, leaving the others to mop up the few stragglers left alive, or, she supposed, un-dead.

A glow from the end of the Esplanade made them sure this was their final destination. The light came from behind a large sarcophagus which hid a pit of flame. In the centre of it stood a large pedestal, a black book placed in the centre of it.

"I have a feeling this is what we came for." Aellana took a step forward, toward the flame. Bishop grabbed her by the arm, stopping her before she could touch it.

"Don't!" he whispered, and Aellana saw genuine concern there.

"I have to," she replied, leaning in close, sharing this moment with him alone. "This is about so much more than just someone trying to kill me." He didn't look convinced, his eyes gleaming with unspoken words. "Come on, Bish," she said, trying out the nickname in response to his use of hers. His eyes widened in surprise, but he said nothing. "I'm the Dragonborn. It'll take more than a little fire to do me in." She smiled at him comfortingly and felt his grip on her arm loosen as he let her go. She turned to Thaiden and Frea, sharing the smile with them.

Without another thought, she turned and walked into the flames.


	14. The Fire of Knowledge

They held their collective breaths. Aellana disappeared into the flames, and Bishop waited for the inevitable screams of agony. But they never came. She was still alive! He breathed a sigh of relief as she emerged from the ring of fire, completely unscathed, to stand before the podium.

"There are dark magics at work here," Frea whispered in awe. Dark magic or not, Bishop was just glad that Aellana hadn't been burned to a crisp. Sharing a glance with Thaiden, he could see he felt the same.

"This book," Aellana spoke loudly to let her voice carry across the crackling flames. "It seems wrong somehow. Here, but not here. It's definitely what we're looking for."

"Can you read it?" Thaiden tried to peer curiously over the flame wall before him. Bishop waved him a little further back where he had a good vantage point to where Aellana stood so they could watch her movements.

She looked at them and nodded, reaching for the book. As she took it in her hands, its pages fluttered open of their own accord, landing open at a page they couldn't see. Aellana went rigid, and a green tendril shot up from the ground, encircling her completely. She disappeared. The last thing she heard as she hurtled through darkness was Thaiden and Bishop's voices as they screamed her name.

 

* * *

 

She came to in a murky world tinged with brown and green. Her mind was foggy and numb as she clawed her way back to consciousness. The atmosphere was thick and cloying, almost swamplike and it took her a moment to realise that she wasn't alone.

A voice was speaking in the distance. Something about the 'time being soon'. It didn't make any sense, and she tried to sit up, shaking her head to try and clear it of the fog. The voice stopped suddenly, sensing her presence and before she could fully comprehend what was happening she felt something large and menacing rush toward her, forcing her to the ground and knocking the wind from her lungs.

Aellana struggled to sit up once again, desperately trying to catch her breath and her bearings. The air was thick as she gulped it in, and she felt herself retch at the sour taste it left in her mouth.

She allowed herself to look up and stared into the face of pure evil. A man stood before her, tendrils of light snaking his bony frame and spiked armour. His face was covered by an expressionless, tentacled mask that only served to accentuate his soulless gaze, which glowed from deep within, exuding menace.

But where the man was frightening, what surrounded him was the stuff of horror. Nightmarish creatures ringed him, ready to do his bidding, their long, clawed hands protruding from hulking bodies that seemed to be made entirely of tentacles. They hovered there, almost motionless, waiting for the command to strike. The green light that tinged the air was centred around a tower in the background where the sky swirled and sparked with internal magic that made the hairs on Aellana's arms stand on end. But the real horror was what lounged lazily behind the man before her. 

A dragon. 

But one so unlike any that she had seen thus far. In shock, she realised that it had the face of the statues they'd passed in the temple. The man before her must be Miraak.

"Who are you to dare set foot here?" The man observed her curiously, his voice deep and booming, echoing with otherworldly power. "Ah, you are Dragonborn. I can feel it. And yet," he turned his head this way and that, as if taking her measure, "you have done little beyond killing a few dragons. You have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield."

"Try me," she managed to grind out through the pain and fear.

" **MUL QAH DIIV!** "Miraak shouted, and Aellana felt herself cringe at the raw power that came from that shout. He saw it too, and despite his face being obscured, she could have sworn she felt him smile. "This realm is beyond you. You have no power here. It is only a matter of time before Solstheim is also mine. I already control the minds of its people. Soon they will finish building my temple, and I can return home."

Now it was Aellana's turn to smile. She'd come here looking for answers, and Miraak had just handed them to her on a platter. 

"Why do bad guys always tell you the plan?" she laughed out loud.

White, hot anger emanated from Miraak, but Aellana didn't care. She just laughed more, for no other reason than she knew it would irritate him.

"Send her back where she came from!" Miraak turned to one of the tentacled creatures by his side. "She can await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel." Without another word, he stalked back to where the dragon stirred behind him.

The ugly tentacled creatures moved toward her, but she was past fear. Miraak didn't want her to die today. He'd made that very clear. He wanted her to bear witness to his power. His arrogance would be his undoing.

The creatures bombarded her with spells, but she ignored the pain, keeping her eyes firmly on Miraak. He got on the dragon and flew away, but not before casting one more glance toward her. She stared at him unflinchingly. If anyone should be afraid, it was him.

 

* * *

 

"Gods, Lana, are you alright?"

She found herself wrapped in Thaiden's warm arms in front of the pedestal, the flames gone and the chamber cold.

"What happened? You read that book, and then it seemed as though you weren't really here." Aellana looked into Frea's concerned face and tried to smile in a way she thought was comforting, but from the frown that deepened on the other woman's face, she assumed she'd failed at that. "We thought you'd disappeared, but when the flames went out, I realised I could see you, but also see through you."

"You were in pain, and frightened. But then you," Bishop paused, looking at her curiously, "changed." He'd seen her cower, he'd seen the look of horror on her face, but he'd also seen the steely look of determination and the laughter as she'd taunted Miraak. "What did you see?"

"I'm not sure. I was...somewhere else." Aellana tried to find the words to describe where she'd been, but gave up, instead opting to tell them the facts. "Miraak was there, and he was riding a dragon!"

"Where? Where is he? Can we reach him? Can we kill him?"

Aellana put a calming hand on Bishop's arm. "Easy there, tiger. Reading this book took me to where he was. I don't think it'll work the same way again."

"It's dangerous then," said Frea matter of factly. "We should return to my village and show this to my father. Perhaps he can make sense of what is going on."

They all agreed. Frea's people were the only ones who seemed to have known anything about Miraak. If anyone could help them, it would be the Skaal.

 

* * *

 

The village was cold and remote. Where so much of Solstheim was grey with ash, the Skaal village was white with snow, accentuated in its brightness by a glowing barrier that glittered, surrounding the town itself.

"The barrier protects the remaining villagers from Miraak's influence," Frea explained. "When the Wind Stone was corrupted our people started working mindlessly on his temples. My father, Storn, erected the barrier to protect those of us who remain."

Storn himself was a handsome Nord of late middle age. His face was kind and open, and he smiled with genuine warmth as Frea ran to him.

"Father, I've returned. We have hope!"

"Frea!" He embraced his daughter warmly, and Aellana felt a small pang of sadness at the fact that she would never again embrace her own father that way. "What news do you bring? Is there a way to free our people?"

"No," Frea shook her head, "but I have brought someone who has seen things. Strange things. She has confirmed that Miraak is behind the suffering of our people."

He nodded slowly, "I feared that would be so." He turned to Aellana, locking her with a quizzical gaze. "You have seen things, yes? My magic grows weak, and so does the barrier around our village. Time is short, tell me what you know."

And she did. She explained everything from the cultists coming to kill her to what she'd experienced in Miraak's otherworld.

"So, you've seen him? Miraak?" Storn was shocked, and Aellana couldn't blame him. It was a lot to take in.

"There was a book in his temple that somehow transported me. Miraak was there." She shrugged, "wherever 'there' was."

Storn nodded. "The legends speak of that place. Terrible battles fought at the temple. The dragons burning it to the ground in rage. They also speak of something worse than dragons buried within. Difficult to imagine, but if true..." His voice trailed off as they all contemplated what 'worse than dragons' could truly mean. "It means what I feared has come to pass. Miraak was never truly gone and, and now has returned. If you could go to this place and see him, are you like Miraak? Are you a Dragonborn?"

"Certainly seems that way."

"Then perhaps you are connected with him. The old tales say that he, too, was Dragonborn."

"What does it mean if we're both Dragonborn?"

"And will that mean you get to ride a dragon too?" Bishop interjected. Both Aellana and Storn gave him a withering look and pointedly ignored the question. Now was not the time for jokes.

"I am unsure," Storn continued as if the interruption had never occurred. "It may mean that you could save us, or it may mean that you could bring about our destruction. But our time here is running out. The few of us left free of control cannot protect ourselves for much longer. You must go to Saering's Watch. Learn there the word that Miraak learned long ago, and use the knowledge of the Wind Stone. You may be able to break the hold on our people, and free them from control."

 

* * *

 

Saering's Watch was nothing but a cold, snow-covered ruin. Aellana had sent the others ahead to the Wind Stone. She needed some time alone to think and to come to terms with everything she'd experienced so far and what it meant. The words of power were her burden to carry, and there was nothing that the others could do to help her with that. It was better that they went ahead and protected the villagers from whatever Miraak decided to throw at them and let her do this alone.

The ruins rose above her, high into the sky where she had to squint against the brightness of the sun on the snow. She picked her way over a few draugr bodies that lay strewn along the ground. She'd waited atop a nearby hill watching the undead and a dragon battle a few minutes earlier. It was mutually assured destruction, and she thankfully hadn't had to fight the creature. It had been a risk to come alone, but luckily the dragon was dead already. She resolved not to mention it to the others who were already worried about her. Knowing how close she'd come to a solo battle would merely ensure that she never had another moment's privacy.

She absorbed the dragon's soul, ignoring the tingling heat that spread through her body. She climbed higher and higher to reach the word wall, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. If she didn't, she found her thoughts straying to Bishop. The way his arms had felt around her as he'd held her close after pulling her back from the trap. The way his naked body had glistened in the moonlight as he emerged from the waters of the hot springs. The way he'd looked at her as they shared a moment of intimacy on the crossing to Solstheim.

 _No_! She wouldn't let her desires overwhelm her. This was just the dragon soul thinking for her. She tried to ignore the moisture building between her legs as she made her way ever upward. Decided not to think about the way Bishop's eyes had locked with hers as he'd released himself into the mouth of the serving girl. She refused to think about how the Ranger might have tasted, how his broad chest would feel under her hands until finally, she stood before the word wall at the top of the temple.

The voices filled her head and the light pulsed. But this time the sounds and light seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her desires. She felt the blood pumping through her veins in time with the chanting, quivering with each pulse of light. With excitement she leaned into the wall, letting her palm come to rest on its surface, pushing her whole body flat against the cold stone, feeling the thrum and beat of the power within. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The word came unbidden into her mind, cresting on a wave of pleasure so delicious that she went weak at the knees. The chanting didn't stop as abruptly as it usually did, instead, it seemed to travel through every nerve, every cell, every fibre of her being, pulsing with its own light and electricity.

As the feeling left her, she collapsed against the wall, entirely spent, gasping out one word. 

_Bishop._

She sat a few moments longer trembling in the snow, unable to bring herself to move. A dragon soul combined with a word of power was a potent mix. What she had experienced was something beyond power. It had been a merging of energies, a profound burst of magic that had left her satisfied in a way she'd never experienced. Thank the Gods she'd been alone. If the others had been there to witness that... If Bishop....

Aellana refused to let herself entertain that thought. She hurried back down from the temple, suddenly full of renewed energy, to find her friends.

They were already at the Wind Stone as she approached. If anyone noticed the slight flush in her cheek whenever she looked at Bishop, they didn't say anything, and for that she was grateful. Mindless workers chipped away tirelessly at the surrounding stones.

"I've heard of stealing things from people but never thought you could steal someone's mind," Thaiden remarked with sadness.

"Well, let's hope we can return their thoughts to them." 

Aellana strode forward and used her Voice.

**"GOL!"**

The arches surrounding the Wind Stone began to pulse and glow with an orange light. The world seemed to still for a moment before the stones all shattered. They had to duck to avoid the crashing debris as the temple exploded in shards of light, raining rock down on the heads of the workers who were already beginning to look around in confusion.

At the centre of it all, a creature was materialising.

"By the Gods," she heard Frea gasp out beside her. "What is that?"

The creature was hideous, but Aellana immediately recognised it as the one depicted in the statuary of Miraak's temple. Miniature versions of the dragon that Miraak had ridden away. The creature was looking around, gathering awareness of its surroundings, and started to flick and throw its tentacles toward the workers who themselves were looking around, trying to get their bearings.

"RUN!" Aellana screamed at the workers, and she threw herself at the creature. It crackled with magic as she ducked and dove to avoid its attacks. Thaiden and Frea made themselves busy trying to usher the confused Nords out of the path of danger, while Bishop was at her side in a matter of seconds, sharing a determined look with her.

"Let's kill this son of a bitch."

They closed the remaining distance side by side. Aellana would draw the creature's attention, feinting to the side as it sent a tentacle out to ensnare her, while Bishop shot arrow after arrow into its exposed side. Finally, the creature slowed and tired, and with a last burst of magic, Aellana froze it to the spot. Without a word Bishop stalked up to it and plunged his dagger deep into its eye, growling as the creature shuddered and died.

"Is it over?" Frea's voice was small as she called from the sidelines where a group of Nord workers were huddled. Their faces were white with terror, eyes wide and frightened. Aellana held up a hand, signalling for them to wait where they were and walked up to the Wind Stone.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" called Thaiden from the other side where he protected his own huddle of workers. He wasn't the only one who remembered what had happened the last time that she'd touched a stone like this one.

"There's no other way to know if the curse is lifted or not." Aellana turned to Bishop. "You brought me back last time. I know you can do it again." He nodded. This time he knew what to expect in case of the worst.

Aellana touched her hand to the stone. At first, nothing happened, and she looked over to Frea, raising an eyebrow quizzically. Frea just shrugged. Within moments, however, the air was whipped into a frenzy. An almighty roar split the silence that had fallen over the group, and a wind circled them, batting them with the power of its fury before dissipating. But the air seemed brighter now, the vegetation greener. The colour was returning to the cheeks of the workers, and as they emerged from where they hid, Frea was glad to see smiles and snatches of conversation.

She looked at Aellana and nodded in thanks. Finally, she could begin to lead her people home.

 

* * *

 

The inside of the Shaman's hut was warm and cosy. The furnishings were modest but welcoming. They sat around the central hearth, reporting to Storn. As they'd entered Aellana had pointedly sat away from Frea, allowing Thaiden to sit beside her with a wink that had earned her a glare from her friend. The gesture had made him a little tongue-tied, and he'd been uncharacteristically silent since their arrival.

"You've proven yourself an ally to the Skaal," Storn said in thanks. "The Skaal shall be allies to you in return."

"Thank you Storn. Allies seem hard to come by these days. I'll be grateful to have the support of your people."

"So what's next?" Bishop was itching to be going. Diplomacy and social pleasantries weren't his forte. There were dangers out there, and every moment they wasted here meant that Miraak was getting closer.

"Well, the Wind Stone is not the only place where the people of Solstheim are enslaved. Perhaps you could break the curses on the other stones of power?"

"Do you think that will help?"

"I doubt it will fully stop whatever Miraak is planning, but it may slow his progress."

Aellana shook her head. "Slowing his progress isn't enough. I need to stop him. Now."

"I can't help with that." Storn looked sufficiently apologetic, and Aellana couldn't blame him for not knowing how to proceed. "You'll need the knowledge that Miraak himself has learned. That is not something that anyone here possesses."

"What about the book?" Bishop was already rummaging through one of the packs where they'd secured it. "Will this help?"

"Do you know anything about this?" Aellana handed the book to Storn who reluctantly took it, slowly turning it over in his hands, inspecting its cover, but refusing to open it.

"Miraak had this? It doesn't look like something from the dragon cult. It's a dark thing. Unnatural." He held it out once again to Aellana. "I'm afraid I want nothing to do with it."

"Thanks for nothing then." Bishop rose angrily and headed for the door. "So much for allies."

Aellana looked at Storn apologetically but rose herself. As much as she detested Bishop's rudeness, he wasn't wrong. They needed answers, and Storn was either unable or unwilling to help them.

"Come on Thaiden. We'll have to go elsewhere for answers." Poor Thaiden looked as if she'd just slapped him. He looked between Frea and herself, flapping his mouth uselessly like a fish out of water. In any other circumstances, it might have been amusing.

"Wait." They all turned to Storn who seemed to be contemplating something. "Perhaps the Dark Elf Wizard, Neloth would be willing to help you." 

Frea nodded emphatically, remembering the strange Elf who had visited the Skaal village and almost absentmindedly placed a hand on Thaiden's arm in excitement which made him stiffen, although no one but Aellana seemed to notice.

"He came to the village some time ago asking about Black Books. We couldn't help him at the time, but now I know they exist, perhaps he will know something about them."

"It's a start," Aellana smiled at Frea then turned and bowed to Storn. "Thank you for your help."

"Seek him out in the South." Storn nodded at them as they rose to leave. "But be careful, Dragonborn. There are dark forces at work here."

Thaiden looked back at Frea as they moved to the door. She shared the look shyly, but neither said a word. Aellana looked between the two who were now pointedly looking away from each other, fully expecting never to see each other again. Thaiden was usually so strong and self-assured. She barely recognised this nervous wreck beside her.  _Sorry_ , she thought to herself,  _but you'll thank me for this later._

She turned away from the door and spoke directly to Frea, which earned her an angry glance from Thaiden which, in turn, only made her grin cheekily.

"We make a good team. Why not join us for a while?"

"Join you?" Frea looked shocked at the suggestion. "You mean, leave the village to fight with you?"

"Why not? Your village is safe, and the more people we have helping defeat Miraak, the better." The look of childish expectation on Thaiden's face was almost comical. He stared at Frea as if he could make her say yes through sheer force of will.

"I'm flattered," she replied, "but the village is my home." Thaiden's face fell, and Frea desperately tried to soften the blow. "I'd love to, really! But it's very rare for one of the Skaal to leave, and I have responsibilities here."

"Suit yourself." Aellana turned back the door, putting a comforting hand on Thaiden's arm.

"Frea, protecting us from Miraak is the best way you can serve our village. If you wish to go, you have my blessing." She turned to Storn wide-eyed.

"Father, really? Do you mean it?"

Thaiden interjected with almost indecent enthusiasm.

"You've seen us fight, and we've already saved your life a few times. We'll make sure you return to your village safely."

"I suppose you're right," Frea nodded. "I have a duty to my village, and, for now at least, that duty requires me to come with you."

Required seemed a little dramatic, but if the emphasis was what Frea needed to convince herself to come, Aellana certainly wasn't going to argue.  As they finally left the hut, Thaiden gave her a little nod of thanks over Frea's head. Aellana smiled widely, giving him a wink, and nearly laughed out loud as she saw him blush.

"So," Bishop turned to the group as they readied their belongings. "I guess the next thing to do is to start shouting at some stones."

"Not exactly what I had in mind when they told me I was the Dragonborn," Aellana laughed.

"Who knew that trying to find an assassin would be so much trouble. I will say this," Bishop turned, addressing Aellana directly,  "at least life with the Dragonborn is anything but boring."

She smiled at him as they resumed their journey. An ancient evil, close brushes with death, cursed villagers and tortured zombies? This was going to be a hell of a ride.


	15. Secrets Best Kept Hidden

Freeing the stones from Miraak's influence proved to be easier than they expected. Almost too easy. More of those strange creatures had appeared when Aellana had used her Shout (Frea had nicknamed them 'Lurkers' since, she said, they 'lurked' in the otherworld waiting for them), but now that they knew what to expect they really weren't too much trouble. Aellana even had to admit that she was enjoying herself.

Their travels through Solstheim had made the group closer. When they made camp, they would laugh and chatter about the day's events as if they were nothing more than a jaunt to the local market, rather than the threat of the complete destruction of Tamriel. But then, these days, what wasn't? Karnwyr would sleep by the fire, snoring gently as only canines can. They would take turns foraging and preparing evening meals, and as the darkness deepened and they made ready retire to their bedrolls, they would share stories and mythology from their childhoods.

Bishop recounted crude stories that the bards in his parents' troupe would tell to amuse their punters that would have them all rolling with laughter. He was a born storyteller and had a gift for bawdy tales. Thaiden would tell heroic stories of the Ancient Nords of Skyrim and Frea told the tales of her people, teaching them all about the Skall and their customs. While they were ethnically Nord, the Skaal shared minimal common culture with the Nords of Skyrim. She shared stories of the All-Maker, of the way they lived in harmony with the land. The Skaal were a proud people with a rich history, and they all agreed that they liked Frea's stories the best.

Aellana, on the other hand, shared very little. She'd tried to tell the stories of the Bretons, to share the culture of her father's people, but she never got very far. The memory of Tynand was still too fresh, and while the pain lessened day by day, the intimacy of the campfire and the knowledge that he would never again tell her the fables of his people made it difficult for her to speak them aloud. Her companions had understood and had respected her right to privacy. For that she was thankful.

"We should reach the Water Stone by morning."

Aellana started in shock as Frea's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Sorry," she laughed. "I was lost in my own world there."

"No matter." The other woman smiled kindly and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. "I'm a little tired myself." She walked to where she had pitched her tent, pausing as she lifted the door flap to enter. "I'm grateful to you."

"What for?"

"For asking me to join you. I've enjoyed your companionship these last few weeks. You are a good friend."

She entered her tent, and Aellana was left smiling after her.

"What was that about?" Thaiden sank down beside her, nodding his head in Frea's direction.

"I think it was more to do with you than with me." She poked Thaiden playfully in the ribs and gave him a wink. "You two have been getting along well."

"You think so?" Thaiden looked at her hopefully.

"Gods, Thaiden. Will you just talk to the girl already?" Bishop groused from where he sat beside the fire, stroking Karnwyr's head while he slept, whittling away at the third wooden wolf he'd begun since they'd arrived in Solstheim. Aellana hadn't asked what he did with the others, but she'd spied a little boy playing with a strangely familiar wooden toy in the Skaal village as they'd left. It seemed, she mused, that the Ranger had a softer side.

"We talk." Thaiden looked embarrassed. "I'm just realistic, that's all. You hear the way she talks about her people, her culture. What future could there ever be for us?"

"None, with that attitude," Bishop mumbled, turning back to his whittling and pointedly ignoring the rest of their conversation.

"Come on, Thaiden. It's obvious you like her. Even to her." Aellana couldn't believe that he looked genuinely surprised by that. They'd been making puppy dog eyes at each other over the campfire for days. If they didn't do something soon, Aellana thought she might just bed Frea herself to get it all over with!

"I just...what if she doesn't like me?"

"Believe me, Thaiden. That is not an option here. Besides, when have you been nervous around women?"

"I don't know. Things were always easy for you and me. We didn't have any expectations. We didn't need to define anything. The same goes for the other girls I've been with. It was fun and easy. This feels...different."

"You're in love Thaiden. Surely it's not the first time?" He gave her a pained look, and Aellana widened her eyes in surprise. "You mean, you've never been in love before?" She had to admit she was shocked. Thaiden had been popular with the girls when they were growing up. She'd received more than her fair share of envious looks when they'd walked anywhere hand in hand. This was news to her.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Lana." She realised that she'd been silent for a bit too long, and placed a comforting hand on Thaiden's arm.

"No, nothing like that. I'm not upset, just surprised."

"I'm worried that things between us will change if I pursue someone else. I don't want to lose you."

"Thaiden, our time together has been fun, but we both agreed that what we have is an occasional thing. I'd like to think I'm not so hideous that you're the best I'm ever going to get." She winked at him, taking the sting out of her words and he laughed.

"You're one of a kind Aellana," and with that, he excused himself to his own tent leaving her alone by the fire with Bishop.

"So, you and Thaiden then?"

"Don't play stupid, Ranger. I know you saw us on the Seven Thousand Steps, and you definitely heard us at the tavern."

Bishop shrugged, neither confirming or denying that he had seen or heard anything.

"You guys were serious?"

"No, not particularly. He's my best friend and occasionally my lover. The friendship is serious, the sex, not so much. We're two consenting adults. Why shouldn't we have a bit of fun?"

"Hey now, ladyship," he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, "no judgment here. Just working out where everyone stands is all."

Before she could ask what that cryptic comment meant he'd whistled to Karnwyr and disappeared into his tent, leaving Aellana alone by the fire, taking in the noises of the night, punctuated by the occasional pop and crackle from the fire as she took first watch. She felt bewildered and, for the first time in a very long time, completely alone.

 

* * *

 

"Where the hell are they all coming from?" Bishop's voice carried across the battlefield where he spun around on the spot, trying to dislodge the Riekling that had clung to his back and was attempting to skewer him from behind. Aellana's hunch had been right. It had been too easy till now.

The dragon flew low overhead, letting a stream of flame scorch the earth between them, and she saw Frea and Thaiden dive out of the way just in time, trying to avoid being overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies surrounding them. 

As Aellana had prepared to use her Voice they'd heard the roar of the dragon, turning just in time to see Rieklings (strange little goblin-like creatures native to Solstheim) and dragon cultists charging at them from the treeline, while all around them lurkers began to materialise. It seemed that Miraak was finally showing his hand.

Aellana ducked as one of Bishop's arrows flew past her shoulder, landing straight in a cultists chest, toppling him as he ran at her. She nodded her thanks, returning the favour by freezing another Riekling in mid-air as it tried to jump and claw at his face. Thaiden was swinging his greatsword in wide arcs, cutting down enemies as quickly as they could approach, and Frea danced with her axes, striking where the enemy was most vulnerable, felling them, thereby allowing the others to finish them off.

As the last enemy fell, they turned their eyes to the sky in unison, watching the Dragon circle, waiting for it to strike.

"Thaiden, I need you to get Frea as far away as possible before this Dragon lands. Bishop and I can handle it."

"No way. I'm not leaving you to fight it alone."

"Thaiden!" She turned to him, making sure he looked right at her. "You know what happens when I absorb a dragon soul. She doesn't. If she goes and you stay, or if you both stay..." she let her voice trail off, letting her meaning sink in. "Do you really want that?"

Thaiden nodded his assent, running over to Frea, grabbing her by the arm and ploughing into the trees as fast as he could. Aellana heard her give a surprised yelp but didn't have time to focus on anything but the Dragon now. Its shadow darkened the earth surrounding them, and Bishop gave her a determined look just as it dove at them.

Lightning sparked from her hands as she hit the Dragon with wave after wave of spells. Bishop aimed his arrows carefully, hitting eyes, mouth, ears, anywhere it might have been vulnerable. They wore it down slowly, until finally, it fell, collapsing in an exhausted heap, waiting for death.

"Bishop," she turned to him, hoping he could get as far away from her as possible before she absorbed the Dragon's soul, but before she could finish the thought, a loud wrenching sound tore the air around her and Miraak appeared.

"I am one step closer to my return!" His voice boomed all around them, and before she could react, Miraak had absorbed the soul and disappeared as quickly as he'd come, leaving her and Bishop staring dumbfounded at the place that he'd been standing just a moment before.

A few moments later, Frea and Thaiden reappeared from wherever they'd hidden. Frea looked grumpy, clearly angry at the fact that Thaiden had pulled her away from a perfectly good fight. Thaiden, on the other hand, glanced between Aellana and Bishop, his expression a mix of worry and curiosity.

"Did you...? Do we need to...?" He awkwardly pointed in a general 'away' direction, and despite the shock, Aellana still found herself laughing.

"No, no need. Miraak absorbed the soul before I had the chance."

"Miraak? He was here?" Frea looked wildly about her as if he were hiding just out of view. "How is that possible?"

"No idea. I think we need to hurry to the last stone though. Whatever's happening, it'll be happening soon."

They trudged onward, weary from battle and lost in thought. The events of the day were confusing, to say the least, and Aellana found herself wondering if she was in completely over her head. She was so lost in thought that she almost walked directly into Thaiden who had stopped on the path before her.

A middle-aged man was pacing across the road, his greasy brown hair hanging around his face in tangles as his eyes darted from side to side in a frenzy. His clothes were in tatters, his shoes basically non-existent as he shuffled and mumbled to himself.

"Why have we stopped?" whispered Bishop. There were raving men in every town and city of Skyrim. Why stop for this one?

"Shhh, just listen." Thaiden put a finger to his lips, and they all stood in silence, trying to riddle out the mumbled words from the madman before them.

"I know things," he whispered. "Hidden things. Things you aren't supposed to know."

Aellana approached him. No matter what information she had, she felt uncomfortable just standing and staring at another human being. He was a man. The least they could do was talk to him like a real person.

"Are you alright?"

"No!" He rounded on her, eyes darting wildly as he looked around for imagined dangers. "That's what I'm trying to say. The secrets. They're in there. In there deep. Can't get them out. They're in my head."

"What kind of secrets? Where did you learn them? Maybe I can help."

"The Black Book." She shared a glance with Thaiden whose face looked like it was trying to say 'I told you so' without having to formulate the words. "It shoved them in there. With black, slick fingers. My fingers are too short. I can't get them out."

"Where did you find this Black Book?"

"Oh no. I didn't find it. It found me. Here," he grabbed her by the hand, dragging her forward, and Aellana heard Bishop growl in warning behind her. "I'll show you. See. Right there. But don't go there. You don't want these things in your head. You don't!"

And before Aellana could react, he rounded on her, knife in hand. But Bishop was ready. Within moments the man lay dead at her feet, an arrow protruding from his chest and the life leaving his eyes. She knelt beside him to close his eyes, and as she did so, he weakly grabbed her hand, squeezing something between her fingers, a pleading, pained look in his eyes. She nodded at him and smiled. Despite the fact that he'd attacked her, she didn't want the last thing he ever saw to be a look of anger or hatred. He'd been through enough already.

As the man breathed his last, she looked down at what he'd given her. It was a note.

_"Black slimy fingers. Black slimy words. Black slimy book. Tel Mithryn Tower like the back of my eyes. But darker. Get these things out of my head!"_

They were definitely heading in the right direction.


	16. The Lies of Herma Mora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how long it's taken me to update! My work schedule has been absolutely mad, on top of which, my CPU gave out. Hopefully I'll be back on track, and ready to write. I've missed spending time with Bishop and Aellana. :)

"Is that...are they....mushrooms?"

Aellana squinted into the distance at the towering fungi that peeked above the hill. Frea just laughed at the look on their faces as they tried to make sense of what they saw up ahead.

"The Telvanni grow buildings from special fungus spores."

"Come again?" Bishop turned to Frea, a look of incredulous disbelief showing plainly on his face.

"Neloth brought cuttings from Morrowind before Red Mountain erupted. He's managed to grow a home."

"A giant mushroom house," Bishop said, shaking his head. "Now I've seen everything."

The group made their way toward the crescent of buildings - if they could even call them that. Stairways snaked toward doorways grown into the stalks, while the fungi themselves speared upward, casting a warm, almost comforting shadow over the complex.

The central fungus was the largest. If any were to be home to Neloth, it would be this one. Aellana led the way, stepping gingerly into the entrance hall, gently calling out to get someone's attention.

"Ok, now I've seen everything!" Bishop stood stunned as Aellana began floating upward in a beam of pulsing blue light.

She looked down at him in shock but soon glanced around curiously, running her hands through the light, watching it ripple across her skin. It was warm and buzzed with magic, and she found herself smiling as she floated upward toward a glowing orb suspended from a vine above her.

Bishop could scarcely breathe as he watched her ascend. At first, it had been through fear, but as he watched her smile and drift upward, gracefully extending her arms and hands to test the magic that surrounded her, he thought she looked positively angelic. He didn't believe in such things, but for a brief moment, he felt that Aellana could make him a believer.

Thaiden broke him from his thoughts, roughly pushing past to step into the light. Seeing the hulking Nord ascend not half as gracefully as Aellana broke the spell, and Bishop and Frea quickly followed suit, ascending to the living area where the others were waiting.

The inside was beautiful. Rustic furniture accentuated the earthy browns of the naturally grown walls of the open plan living space. The atmosphere was warm, with an organic scent that made the area feel homely and welcoming.

The house seemed deserted at first. It was silent, and no one responded to Aellana's gentle calls. They almost missed the dark-skinned elf grumbling to himself in a corner, lost in his thoughts. He was flicking through some sort of book, muttering incessantly under his breath.

"It's as if Tel Mithryn is cursed!" He ranted as they watched him curiously. "Spoiled food, ash spawn attacks, sick servants, what's next?" He banged a fist against the wall, only then seeing the group staring at him wide-eyed.

"It's you!" Bishop recognised the elf immediately.

"Of course, didn't I see you in Raven Rock?" The Elf seemed only mildly interested by their appearance in his home.

Aellana recognised him then as the wizard they'd first encountered at the Earth Stone when they'd just newly arrived in Solstheim.

"A pleasure to see you again," she said graciously, although she wasn't entirely sure that was true.

"What brings you to Tel Mithryn?"

"I hear you know where to find Black Books?" She didn't feel there was much point in continuing with unnecessary pleasantries, and so she got straight to the point.

"You refer to the tomes of esoteric knowledge that Hermaeus Mora has scattered throughout the world? Are they somehow connected to your search for Miraak?"

"Yes, I've already found one, and need to find more."

"Found one?" The elf glanced up in surprise. He peered at her suspiciously, looking her over, eyes searching. "Yes...and you read it too, didn't you?"

Aellana opened her mouth to reply, but the elf cut her short.

"Don't' try to deny it. You've got the look. I can see it now."

"I wasn't going to deny it," she ground out between gritted teeth. Would the blasted mystics of Skyrim never stop interrupting her and presuming to know her thoughts?

"It's dangerous knowledge. But it's still knowledge, and therefore useful. It usually turns out to be the most useful in my experience."

"I have to know what Miraak knows if I have any hope of stopping him."

"Now that is a dangerous path indeed. Hermaeus Mora gives nothing away for free. You may end up like Miraak of course. Two power-mad Dragonborn. Oh yes, I know who you are," the shocked look on Aellana's face seemed to give him a fiendish glee. "This could be very interesting."

Aellana was getting tired of cryptic words, and vague pronouncements.

"I'm going to ask you again. Do you know where I can find another Black Book?"

"Oh yes," Neloth nodded. "They're not hard to locate once you know how to look for them. I have one here that I've been using to locate more. I've found one connected to Miraak, but haven't yet been able to get it. Maybe together we can unlock the secrets of the Dwemer to retrieve it?"

"What do the Dwemer have to do with this?" Bishop's voice was sharp, his patience balancing on a knife's edge. The wizard turned to him, giving him an appraising look, pausing before answering.

"The dwarves were obsessed with forbidden knowledge. And I think this counts, don't you?"

He turned away from Bishop dismissively like one would a child who has interrupted an adult conversation, and Aellana felt him stiffen beside her as Neloth turned his attention back to her.

"It seems the ancient Dwemer took this book for study. I found their reading room in the ruins of Nchardak. The book is there but sealed in a protective case that I wasn't able to open. Perhaps together we'll be able to do so."

 

* * *

 

"Gods, why is nothing ever easy?" Thaiden groaned as they entered the Dwemer ruins. The journey had been uneventful, but on arrival, they'd discovered that Neloth hadn't been entirely honest with them. The ruins were crawling with cultists, and it had been a hard, gruelling fight to get to the room in which the book was hidden.

The tome itself was locked under a complicated glass trap door. Evidence of Neloth's previous attempts at opening it lay strewn about. Bishop, true to style grabbed the nearest hammer and tried to brute force his way in. Neloth looked at him like something he'd scrape off the bottom of his shoe until Bishop glared at him, threw the hammer down and went to glower alone in a corner.

"The dwarves must have feared this book to lock it away like this." Frea's voice was low, almost reverential as she looked at the menacing black book that lay just out of reach.

"Fear or not, it's what we came here for." Aellana didn't mean to be so curt, but time was short, and she needed to get to that book.

"Perhaps there is a way, but it will require restoring power to these ruins."

"So, how do we restore power then?"

"Not you, Dragonborn. You will remain with me, and we will attempt to open it from here."

"If she stays, I stay." Bishop shot the elf a steely glance, challenging him to disagree.

"As you wish." Neloth waved a hand, ignoring Bishop's growl of contempt, and pulled Frea and Thaiden to the side to instruct them. They would have to go alone.

Aellana glanced over at her friend who looked happier than he had in days. She thought it was probably because he'd be having some forced alone time with Frea. Restoring power to an ancient ruin seemed easy enough, and it might finally give them a chance to talk.

Neloth led them to a door in the wall, and Aellana noticed with a smile that Thaiden placed his hand on the small of Frea's back, politely letting her enter the doorway first. It seemed incongruously chivalrous for a man who was literally about to lead a woman into a construct-infested ruin, but Frea blushed and smiled up at Thaiden as they disappeared into the darkness.

Within an hour Neloth and Aellana had tried everything they could think of to get the trap open. He'd used magic, she'd Shouted, and Bishop had paced warily behind them both like a wolf waiting pounce. Karnwyr walked alongside him and had at least twice quite literally pounced at Neloth, who had forced Bishop to send the wolf outside or himself be banished from the room. In any other circumstances, Aellana would have found Bishop being chastised like a naughty child hilarious, but she didn't like Neloth, and she found his behaviour rude and dismissive.

The time ticked on. Hours had passed before Frea and Thaiden finally stumbled back. Bishop and Aellana looked up, ready to welcome their friends and get the gossip, but one look at them silenced any attempts at enquiry. The pair were wet, bedraggled, and stormed into the room glowering at Neloth. The two were irritable, cold, tired, and any hope that Aellana had that this might have given them a chance to get to know each other better was shattered.

"I think you might have left out a few details about these ruins," Thaiden ground out, rounding on the Elf. "Traps, flooding caverns, attacks from all sides? Not to mention the fact that it's a fucking labyrinth down there!"

Frea was wringing the water out of her thick, blonde hair, and removing her outer armour to let it dry. She didn't say anything, just glared in Neloth's direction.

"But the power is restored?" He ignored Thaiden's stony look, making his way quickly to the glass case, the excitement in his voice palpable.

"Yes, it's restored."

He quickly ran from the room, returning a moment later, a spring in his step.

"What did you...?" But Aellana was cut off as Neloth pushed a button on a plinth behind the trap-door. A crystal wedged into the ceiling above them bathing the room in sudden, blinding brightness, before gathering itself into four pinpoints of light that settled on four glass panels nested into the ground. The panels began to glow, the glass covering of the book slid open and the platform on which it sat raised itself to the surface.

The book lay there, black as night and exuding menace. Not for the first time Aellana wished this wasn't her burden to bear. But it was. Her companions stood in silence as she stepped forward, offering support with their presence. They knew what to expect this time. They'd be here for her no matter what.

She took the book in her hands, felt a rush of fetid air as a slimy tendril once again came up to envelop her. She felt Bishop stiffen behind her, but this time he didn't cry out. For that she was grateful. The thought of causing him pain would have been too much at this point, although she wasn't entirely certain why it should matter so much to her.

 

* * *

 

She stood on a platform, adrift in a lake of black. Book pages were scattered everywhere. Everything was dark, bathed only in the sickly green glow that came from the atmosphere above, and a few points of blue light that emanated from the braziers dotted around. Other platforms in the lake spun and danced about, lost in their trajectories, and despite the air of menace, Aellana had to admit the place was strangely beautiful.

Directly before her stood a lonely plant. It looked like a black lily, but it glowed with an otherworldly light and seemed to draw her forward.

"So, another seeker of knowledge enters my realm."

The voice boomed in and around her. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, appearing inside her head, unbidden.

"This is Apocrypha, where all knowledge is hoarded. Perhaps you will prove clever enough to uncover the secrets hidden here, if so, welcome. Perhaps you are a fool or a coward. If so, you are in peril. Read your book again and escape before Apocrypha claims you forever."

Aellana tried her best to ignore the voice. It was clearly meant to frighten her, and she had to stay focused. She continued forward toward the black flower, fighting off the sense of dread that was threatening to engulf her.

She reached out a hand, gently brushing her fingers across the petals of before her. She pulled back in shock as the entire flower folded in on itself with a snap. As it did, a bridge in front of her unfurled, and with a start, she realised that the entire platform was a single, living organism! Everything here was connected. What at first had seemed constructed was instead organic, creating an ecosystem formed by nature, darkness and magic.

The bridge led her to the open water. She looked around in confusion. Surely there must be some way to proceed? A few moments later a cluster of vines came rushing toward her, and only at the last minute did she realise that they aligned with her bridge to create a corridor. She took a deep breath and jumped, almost losing her footing and plunging back into the inky, dark waters.

The moving platform was disconcerting. She felt unbalanced as she rushed across the water, leaping from platform to platform as they bobbed and glided past each other. She barely thought, acting on instinct alone, touching flowers, dodging slimy black vines that reached out from the blackened waters like tentacles to nip at her heels, and fighting the occasional lurker as and when they appeared. To think would be to feel, and she couldn't feel less her fear claim her. She had no other choice.

Before she knew it, she'd reached another book. Reading it brought blackness, and Aellana felt a profound panic, thinking she'd gone blind. But her vision cleared, leaving her staring open-mouthed at a corridor that spun and twisted with book pages. She fought through, shielding her face from the threat of thousands of paper cuts until she reached the end, and another flower opened the tunnel outward, creating the floor of a vast room. It reminded her of a battleground, and no sooner had she thought that then more of Frea's lurkers appeared.

She let her mind go blank then, fighting without thought, letting her magic guide her, and her feet move of their own accord. She didn't know how long she struggled, but as she once again took control of her thoughts, the creatures were dead. Another book stood off to the side, and she steeled herself, letting it transport her wherever it would.

Aellana came out a moment later in a cathedral-like cavern filled with piles and piles of books. She gasped at its beauty. Arches snaked upward into the glowing green sky, and as she looked closer, she realised that each arc was made of hundreds and thousands of ancient tomes. This truly was a cathedral of knowledge, a repository of all things. What she wouldn't give to spend her life in this room, reading the works of the ages, devoting her life to learning all there was to know. She understood then why people worshipped Hermaeus Mora. He did indeed hold all knowledge.

She moved forward through twisting, shifting corridors, fighting and felling any enemy that crossed her path. She travelled ever upward, stopping for nothing, desperate to find out what lay at the end of this labyrinth. Approaching a plateau she touched the last flower, hoping this was the end. If this didn't reveal anything, there was nowhere left for her to go.

The flower snapped back once again, and Aellana gazed in wonder as a pillar before began to unfurl, opening itself up like a flower. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen, like witnessing the very birth of knowledge itself. A petal reached toward her, and she moved forward onto it, seeing her goal at the very centre of what the flower had revealed. Another black book the seemed to suck all the light into itself. Instinctively she knew that this is what she had come for.

She reached out.

"All seekers of knowledge come to me, sooner or later." The voice once again appeared in her mind, resonating deeply, and unsettling her to her core.

"Who are you?"

"I am Hermaeus Mora, the gardener of men, the knower of the unknown, master of fates. You stand in my realm mortal."

Aellana felt the blood drain from her face, and her legs trembled as she realised the real danger she was in. She'd known, somehow, that she was in the realm of Hermaeus Mora, but had never considered the possibility that he may have been here, watching her every move.

"You have sought out the forbidden knowledge that only one other has obtained. You are Dragonborn, like Miraak before you. A seeker of knowledge, and power. I have watched your progress through my realm with growing interest."

"I won't serve you, monster," she said, her voice far steadier than she felt it had any right to be. "I just want to defeat Miraak."

"You will serve me. Willing, or not. All who seek after the secrets of the world are my servants. I know what you want: to use your power as Dragonborn to bend the world to your will."

"No, I don't..."

"Here then is the knowledge you need," he cut her off, and that simple action replaced all her fear with white, hot anger. That was the second time today that she'd been cut off by a man who thought he knew her mind. She was not going to stand for it, even if one of those men was a god!

"Although, you did not know you needed it," Hermaeus Mora continued, not registering the change in Aellana's demeanour. "The second word of power. Use it to bend the wills of mortals to your purpose. Miraak knows the final word. Without that, you cannot hope to surpass him. Miraak served me well, and he was rewarded. I can grant you the same power that he wields, but all knowledge has a price."

"So what is your price?"

"Knowledge for knowledge. The Skaal have withheld their secrets from me for many, long years. The time has come for this knowledge to be added to my library."

"Right, and I'm just supposed to trust you?"

"My word is as true as fate and as inevitable as destiny. Bring me what I want, and I will give you what you seek. Send the Skaal Shaman to me. He holds the secrets that will be mine."

 

* * *

 

"Lana, wake up!" She opened her eyes slowly, staring into the faces of her three friends as they hovered above her, concern clouding their features.

Frea threw herself on top of her, wrapping her into a huge hug which seemed to surprise herself as much as Aellana. She quickly retreated with a hasty apology, and Aellana caught Thaiden giggling behind her.

She sat up, groaning as her head began pounding. She felt more tired than that time she and Thaiden had drunk their way through Sigrund's extensive liquor cabinet over the course of two nights and had woken up with three day's accumulated hangover when they were teenagers. Everything ached, and she felt nauseous and weak.

"You've been catatonic for over a day. We couldn't wake you. You only now started moving your eyes and making any sound at all." Bishop's voice was quiet, his words barely louder than a whisper. Aellana looked at him intently, trying to understand what he was saying to her.

It took her a few moments to recollect herself and remember that she was actually on a critical mission. Her experience in Apocrypha seemed like some long-forgotten dream. The experience was fading, even as she tried so hard to remember. She forced her mind to focus, the same way she did when calling on her magic, and there it was, flooding back into her mind in one massive, terrible wave.

"Frea!" She grabbed the other woman in panic. "I spoke to Hermaeus Mora."

"Herma-Mora himself?" Frea went white, her hand moving to her mouth as she gasped in shock.

"I know what he wants. He wants the secrets of the Skaal."

If possible, Frea went even paler. She grabbed her outer armour that still stood to the side where she had discarded it a day earlier and ran for the exit.

"Where are you going?" Thaiden cried after her, quickly rising to follow her.

"I must warn my father!" And with that she was gone, Thaiden following closely on her heels.

"What secrets could the Skaal have that's worth all that power?" Bishop and Aellana both turned to stare in the direction of the voice. In the last few moments, they'd completely forgotten that Neloth there, and they were stunned to find the Elf still present. He didn't remain long though, mumbling something about 'more research' under his breath and disappearing in the same direction as Frea and Thaiden just moments before.

Aellana and Bishop turned to look at each other. Bishop shuffled his feet nervously, trying desperately to think of something to say.

"Do you...?" Aellana gestured weakly toward the exist. She didn't want Bishop to feel he had to stay on her account.

"No!" He quickly collected himself, calming his voice. "No, I don't have anywhere to be. We should head back to the Skaal, but we can wait until you're ready."

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments while Aellana waited for the pounding in her head to subside. Neither could think of anything to say and didn't feel the need to fill the silence with idle words. Bishop whistled to Karnwyr who came in from outside and snuggled into her side, comforting her with his friendly warmth. She smiled and nodded her thanks at Bishop.

After a few moments she stood, and Bishop handed her his water flask, letting her drink deeply.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

They walked out into the sunshine, side by side. Straight into a dragon.

"Shit!"

They dove in opposite directions, narrowly avoiding a jet of flame that blasted toward them.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" Aellana cursed. Alone with Bishop and fighting a dragon was not ideal right now. There was too much unspoken between them. They needed more time.

Wishing did not make it so, however. The dragon was here, and very, very real. They had no choice but to fight it. Together.

They fought side by side like a well-oiled machine. Her magic, his arrows, and Karnwyr's distracting barks and growls. The dragon was strong. Aellana's already fragile stamina was failing her fast, and she felt herself weakening with each blast of lightning from her hands. It took every ounce of strength she had left to finally fell the beast, and as she absorbed the dragon's soul, she felt the power overwhelm her. It filled her mind with white noise until everything went black.

 

* * *

 

It was dark when she came to. Aellana looked around in confusion, trying to take in her surroundings. Instead of the cold stone of the ruins, she was in a warm room, lit by a glow from the firepit, covered in blankets and furs.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the Shaman's hut." She looked at the source of the voice and saw Thaiden, Frea and Storn sitting off to the side, deep in discussion. Bishop wasn't with them. Her stomach twisted as she remembered the dragon battle.

"Where's Bishop? Is he alive?"

"He survived," Thaiden said comfortingly. "You passed out when you absorbed the dragon soul. He carried you all the way here."

"Shit. Did he...? Did we....?" she looked pleadingly at Thaiden, and he shook his head.

"Judging by the state of him, no. He brought you back here. No one's seen him since."

Aellana breathed a sigh of relief. When he returned, they'd have to sit down and have a decent chat. She owed him some explanations.

"You owe us some answers." Aellana looked at Storn in confusion. How had he known what she was thinking? She realised then that he wasn't talking about her relationship with Bishop. She inwardly chastised herself. There was no relationship. And she was letting herself get distracted.

"I spoke to Hermaeus Mora. He asked for the secrets of the Skaal."

"Old Herma-Mora himself." Storn clicked his tongue and shook his head in disbelief. "So, he is the source of Miraak's power? Of course. We have many tales of Herma-Mora trying to trick us into divulging our secrets, and now he comes again."

"I can only defeat Miraak with the final word of his shout. Hermaeus Mora will only give me that in exchange for your secrets."

"So, it falls to me to give up our secrets to our ancient enemy." Storn looked crestfallen, and Aellana didn't envy him his decision. "I do not know if I have the strength to face him. The Tree Stone is still corrupted. The land is out of balance. But with the other five restored, it may be enough." He seemed to consider for a moment until his face took on a look of steely determination. "It will have to be."

"You mean you'll give him what he wants?"

"Yes." Storn nodded with a finality that would broker no argument. "The Skaal have told of this day, the day that Herma-Mora finally wins. I must guard our secrets, but also to decide when to give them up. I believe that time is now."

"Father, please..." Frea had gone pale, and she reached out for her father and enveloped him in a fierce embrace. He slowly freed himself from her grasp, putting a comforting hand on Frea's cheek. "If I am wrong, may our ancestors forgive me." He turned to Aellana then. "Give me the book, and I will speak to him."

"Thank you." Aellana reached out to take Storn's hand in her own. "Your bravery is not unappreciated."

"I am trusting that you will make my sacrifice worthwhile."

He rose and headed to the entrance of the hut, making his way out into the cold, white snow.

"Father, no!" Frea hurried after him, tears streaming down her face as she cried out to stop him. "Please don't do this."

Thaiden followed them, and Aellana forced herself to her feet. Storn was making a considerable sacrifice. She had to bear witness.

"Everything about this is wrong. It's against everything you have taught me my whole life." Frea was trying to physically stop her father from going any further. He rounded on her sternly.

"I must, Frea. It is the only way to free Solstheim from Miraak's shadow. There comes a time when everything must change. Nothing that lives remains the same forever. Do not fear for me, my daughter. This is the destiny that the All-Maker has laid out for me."

Frea bowed her head, deferring to her father's wisdom, both as a parent and as the shaman of her clan.

"I stand beside you, father. As always."

The Skaal villagers had gathered at the commotion, and then now stood sentinel, watching as Storn opened the black book that Aellana handed him. For a few moments nothing happened, and suddenly, to a collective gasp, Hermaeus Mora's eyes appeared before him.

Storn looked up, straight into Aellana's eyes and nodded imperceptibly, just as black tentacles burst out of the book, piercing him right through the chest.

A villager screamed, and Aellana felt her body go rigid. This wasn't what should have happened! This was wrong. No one was meant to die!

"At last! The Skaal yield up their secrets to me." The voice boomed into the minds of all present, and children began to whimper as Frea started to wail.

"FATHER! No, stop." She was screaming and trying to run toward Storn, but Thaiden held her back, crushing her to him, trying to keep her out of danger.

"You....liar...," Storn gasped out, the vine protruding from his chest making it difficult for him to speak. "I...I won't....I won't...not....not for you."

"Do something!" Frea screamed right at Aellana, and she felt her heart break. There was nothing that she could do. She'd caused this, asked this of Storn. She couldn't stop what was happening, no matter how badly she wanted to. She held Frea's gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks, begging the other woman to forgive her.

"Dragonborn," Hermaeus Mora's voice continued. "You have delivered me the gift I requested. In return, I keep my promise, as befits a Prince of Oblivion. I give you the word of power that you need to challenge Miraak."

Storn dropped to the ground as the vine's retreated, and Thaiden finally released Frea, who ran to his side, wailing and screaming for him to wake up.

Pain like nothing she had ever experienced before wracked her body and her head felt like it was being split in two. Hermaeus Mora wasn't teaching her the word he was forcing it into her mind. She heard her own screams mingle with Frea's as she collapsed in the snow in a whimpering, quivering mess.

"You will be either a worthy opponent or his successor, as the tides of fate decree." And the voice was gone.

"What have you done?"

Aellana looked up from where she'd fallen, right into Frea's face. It was filled with such pain and anger that she had to stop herself from recoiling from the hatred that she saw there.

"Frea, I am so sorry." She was crying, trying to crawl toward the other woman. "I didn't know this would happen."

Frea's face softened slightly, and Thaiden made his way to her side. As he knelt beside her, Frea crumpled into his arms, shaking with the force of her grief. Aellana remembered how she'd felt when Tynand had died. How could she live, knowing that she'd taken another woman's father away from her? It was a pain she knew all too well, and one she would not willingly have inflicted on her worst enemy.

She rose and made her way over to Frea. She put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm truly sorry Frea. I have no words of comfort to offer, just my promise that Storn will be avenged."

Frea lifted her tear-streaked face from Thaiden's shoulder and stared intensely into Aellana's eyes with steely determination.

"Go. My father sacrificed himself so you could destroy Miraak and lift his master's shadow from the land." Her eyes filled with venom, but not at Aellana whose hand she grasped in solidarity. "Kill Miraak. Do not fail."

Aellana nodded. Miraak would die.


	17. The Ranger's Woes

Bishop stared into his now empty mug, absentmindedly calling over one of the serving girls for a refill. She sauntered over with a coquettish sway to her hips giving him a wink as she placed the fresh mug of ale in front of him. He barely spared her a glance, quickly downing half his drink in one, slouching deeper into his chair. How long had he been here now? Three days? Four? He'd drunk steadily since he'd arrived, and the details were getting blurry.

Some memories, however, were clear as glass. He'd stumbled back into the Ravenrock Inn a few days earlier, barely able to think, speak or walk. He and Aellana had fought the dragon together. The fear he felt as she'd collapsed to the ground still cut him like a knife, etched forever into his memory. Ever since he'd met the cursed woman, he'd been in a permanent state of terror. She was always walking into danger with no thought for her safety or the safety of those who chose to follow her. It was infuriating!

The serving girl gave him a concerned look from behind the bar, and he realised he'd cursed out loud. He raised his hand to signal he was alright. By the Gods! Aellana wasn't even here, and he was still thinking about her. He indicated once more for another drink. There wasn't another transport away from Solstheim for a few days yet, and he planned to spend that time well and truly drunk. He wanted oblivion. To forget he'd ever come to this godsforsaken place.

He'd been at Aellana's side in seconds after the battle. She was pale as death, her breathing shallow. At first, he'd felt nothing but fear, but within moments as he watched her chest rise and fall quickly as she struggled to take in air, he'd felt a desperate need like he'd never felt before. The leather of her armour was stretched tight across her breasts, and he'd thought back to that night he'd watched her bathe by the hot springs. His breath had caught in his throat, and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to tear her armour off and take her there and then.

Without even realising he was doing it, he'd started to unlace her leather bodice, exposing the sheer white cotton of her undershirt. He was already straining for release from the confines of his own tight, leather trousers, and it was that sensation that had snapped him out of whatever spell had befallen him.

He'd never held with rape. And no matter what sparks there were between Lana and himself, she was unconscious. There were rules about such things. He'd gathered her into his arms, groaning as he'd felt her muscular, lean body crushed against his own. By the Gods! The desire! It was like a crushing weight bearing down on his soul, and with every step, it grew worse and worse. Karnwyr whimpered beside him as he walked, anxious at his human's obvious distress, and Bishop let the sound anchor him. The frightened whimper of the wolf perfectly mirroring his feelings at his lack of control.

Control was something that Bishop craved above all else. He'd had so much stolen from him, and so many decisions in his life had been taken out of his hands that he'd made a pact with himself long ago never again to feel that helpless. But now he felt he couldn't even trust his own body. Who would have thought that the closest he would get to ultimate betrayal would be from himself? That thought alone was enough to give him the strength to move on.

He had stumbled into the Skaal village hours later, knocking at the Shaman's hut, dropping Aellana into the snow and running as fast as his legs would carry him. He'd briefly heard Thaiden's voice behind him, calling for him to stop, but he ignored the other Nord and ran deep into the night, desperate to get away from the whole sorry lot of them! He would not be made vulnerable by these people. He had to leave Solstheim as quickly as possible, for self-preservation as well as Aellana's safety. From him. He'd come so close to... no! He shut down his own thoughts on the subject. He hadn't. That was what mattered. He'd make sure there was never a next time.

He barely remembered making his way to the Inn at Raven Rock but with the smells, sights and sounds of the bustling tavern assaulting his senses he'd slowly come back to an awareness of his surroundings. Away from Aellana he no longer felt the same carnal impulse, but his desires were still wholly unchecked. He saw a familiar face behind the bar. The same cherub-faced serving girl who'd taken him to bed on their arrival. He walked over to her, and she smiled, clearly pleased to see him again.

"Please. I need you. Now."

The girl looked confused for a moment, but taking in his appearance, his short breaths and the prominent bulge in his trousers it didn't take her long to understand his meaning. She smiled, winked and nodded, taking his hand and guiding him toward the stairs.

"No, you don't understand," Bishop groundout. "I mean now."

"Take me," the girl whispered, and he did. Right there against the wall, in full view of everyone.

Bishop blushed at the memory. It hadn't been his proudest moment. He was no stranger to public displays of desire. He tended not to frequent establishments with prudish morals, but this was different. He'd hardly been in control as he pushed her back against the wall, gathering her skirts above her waist. It had been over within seconds, driven entirely by lust and need and not through any care or interest in the woman he was taking, even if it was willingly. A few rough thrusts against the wall had seen him release with a groan, eliciting a disappointed sigh from the young woman as he pulled away.

It was as if a fog had lifted and he could once again see clear skies. He physically breathed a sigh of relief before looking at the young woman who was glaring at him in disappointment. He laughed at the absurdity of it, trying to downplay the situation, and gave the girl a deep kiss.

"Thank you," he whispered in her ear, and she gave a shudder of pleasure at the feel of his warm breath against her ear.

"Don't thank me yet, Ranger. Do you think I'm letting you off that easy?"

She pulled her skirts back down while he tucked himself back into his trousers and took him by the hand. She led him upstairs to the room they'd first shared, closing the door behind them. Bishop rose to the occasion. Quite literally. Let it not be said that he would ever let a woman go unsatisfied.

 

* * *

 

"It's been six days, Lana. I don't think he's coming back."

Aellana breathed a weary sigh. Thaiden was right. There'd been no sign of the Ranger since he'd dropped her off in the Skaal village. She'd taken some time to let herself recover before once again reading the Black Book and heading into Apocrypha, and had been hoping that Bishop would return in that time. She had no idea what had happened after the dragon battle. She couldn't imagine that he'd run away purely because of some sexual frustration. What had happened on the way back from the ruins? Or maybe she'd just misjudged his dedication to their little unit. After all, they'd put him in some grave danger, and he didn't precisely owe them anything. She certainly wouldn't blame him if he'd just had enough and had decided to leave. She resolved to think no more about it. After all, she had more important things to worry about, like how on earth she was going to stop Miraak.

Frea had been a little distant since Storn's death, which Aellana completely understood. She was the Shaman now and had responsibilities to the village and her people. She'd offered Thaiden and Aellana hospitality in her home until she was fully recovered.

It had come as no surprise that Thaiden had started spending his nights with Frea. She needed comfort, and Thaiden was the only one who seemed willing to provide it. Aellana couldn't, as she was the entire reason that Storn's ashes now lay scattered to the four winds. Even the villagers spent all their time calling on Frea for guidance, seemingly forgetting that she was first and foremost a daughter who had just lost her father.

Aellana and Thaiden now sat opposite each other by the fire of Frea's hut, planning their next move. It had been long enough, and she could no longer delay the inevitable.

"I won't put the village in danger. There's no certainty that Hermaeus Mora has everything that he wants. I can't risk bringing him here again."

"Where will you go?"

Aellana shrugged. "I thought perhaps the Inn in Raven Rock? It seems as safe a place as any. We can rent a room for a few days, and I'll read the book there."

"I can't go with you." 

Aellana looked up in surprise. With the Ranger gone she had felt comfort in the knowledge that Thaiden would always be there for her. His words struck her deeply as if she were falling and he'd just removed her safety net.

"Please, Thaiden. I can't do this alone." She was practically begging him, but his eyes remained calm as he replied.

"Frea needs me too. She's just lost her father, and I won't leave her here alone."

"I'm about to travel into the realm of an ancient God and prepare to do battle with an evil Dragonborn. You don't think maybe I need you a little bit more?" She was shouting, but she didn't care. She had to carry this burden, but she certainly didn't want to do it alone.

"Be reasonable, Lana. Even if I were there, there's nothing I could do. I can't follow you into Apocrypha. Like it or not, you don't need me. And," now he really did look sorry, "I have other priorities now." He looked in the direction of Frea's room, and Aellana understood. Thaiden wasn't hers. She'd never wanted him to be. She had to let him follow his heart, even if it meant him staying behind.

She nodded, accepting his decisions and he stood to embrace her.

"Be careful, Lana. I may not be coming with you, but I'm expecting you to return to me."

"Take care of Frea. She's a lucky woman."

 

* * *

 

The Inn was crowded. There had been a transport that arrived that morning for trade, and the sailors, merchants and sundry other travellers had all disembarked to give themselves a much-needed break from the gruelling sea journey before setting out the next day. Raven Rock offered very few other distractions, so the Inn was the only place to while away the hours.

Aellana was making her way to the bar to inquire about the availability of a room when she overheard two of the serving girls talking off to the side.

"Come on, Breina. It's my turn."

"You took him his dinner the night before last. I'm doing it tonight."

"But after I went, Olfret brought up a mug of ale, so I didn't get him all to myself. You haven't had to share."

"I don't mind sharing," the girl named Breina giggled. "There's enough of that Ranger to go round." Both women broke into peals of girlish laughter, whispering and gesturing as they shared their secrets.

Aellana looked up. Ranger? Could they be talking about Bishop?

"Sorry," she interrupted. "Who are you talking about?" The two young women looked up, and realisation dawned on Breina's face as she saw Aellana. It took Aellana a moment to register why, and then she realised that she'd seen her before. She was the pretty young Nord that Bishop had taken to bed that night they'd arrived in Solstheim.

Breina blushed as she replied. "I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect."

"Where. Is. He." Breina's eyes widened at the anger she saw in Aellana's eyes.

"U...up...upstairs," she stammered out, retreating from Aellana's furious gaze. "Same room as last time. But you can't go up there, he's not...."

But Aellana wasn't listening. She stormed through the bar, elbowing patrons out of the way in barely concealed fury on her way to the stairwell, so she didn't hear Breina's last word.

"...alone."

Breina and her companion shared a concerned glance but shrugged off any further thoughts on the matter. Whatever was going on between those two was none of their business.

Aellana stormed up the stairs, white-hot anger coursing through her body. She was going out of her mind with worry over him, thinking something terrible had happened, or that something awful had happened to both of them as she'd been unconscious, but instead, he'd been here the whole time, whoring his way through the entire Inn!

She marched up to the door and threw it open with a loud thud, her anger making her stronger than she'd anticipated. She opened her mouth to speak but suddenly found that she didn't have any words.

There was Bishop, on the bed, buried deep in the young woman who knelt before him. Four other women were in the room with him, in various states of undress hands and lips on him and on each other as he had the woman in front of him by the hair, thrusting deep into her. As the door was flung open, they all looked up as one, Bishop giving a surprised grunt as he realised who was standing in the doorway.

"Out. NOW!" The firey look on Aellana's face was all the incentive the women needed. Within moments they'd gathered their clothes and stumbled out of the door, eager to remove themselves from the situation. She slammed the door behind them and turned back to Bishop, whose own face now mirrored hers in anger. He rose from the bed, not bothering to clothe himself.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"What am I doing?" She walked up and slapped him. He turned back to her, and she watched as the stunned hurt in his eyes turned to thick, smouldering anger that made his eyes glow like embers.

"Do that again, ladyship..." And she did. She couldn't help herself. His head snapped to the side, and he turned to her once more, slowly, glaring.

"One more time and I swear I'll..." She let fly once more, but this time he caught her hand, holding it still and squeezing it until she whimpered in pain. She beat at him with her free hand until he finally let go, and she collapsed to the ground in tears.

He reached for his clothes, silently slipping them on before sinking to the ground next to her. They sat in silence for a moment then, neither one willing to be the first to speak. It was Bishop who eventually broke.

"I'm glad you're alright."

"I was worried about you when you didn't come back."

"I'm heading back to Skyrim in the morning on the first transport."

Aellana looked at him. She'd considered the fact that he may have been leaving Solstheim, but hearing him say it out loud still shocked her to the core.

"Storn's dead."

Bishop did a double take. "He's what?"

"Hermaeus Mora killed him. Stole the secrets of the Skaal."

"Frea, is she....?"

"She's alive. But I'm pretty sure she curses the day she ever met me."

"Seems to be going around."

As soon as he'd said it, he wished he could take it back. The look of hurt in Aellana's eyes was almost too much to bear. But wishing wouldn't make it so. 

She rose quickly and made for the door.  "I'm sorry, I don't even know what I'm doing here. I shouldn't have barged in. It was none of my business."

She was at the door in seconds and Bishop only just caught her hand in time.

"Lana, wait. Don't go."

"No, Bishop. You're right. I've brought nothing but danger to you all. You've done so much for me already. I'm the Dragonborn, and this is my burden to bear. I can't expect you to shoulder any of it."

He couldn't tell her that it wasn't her. He couldn't tell her that he'd nearly lost control and taken her unwillingly on the forest floor while she lay unconscious in his arms. He couldn't tell her that he'd spent the last days drunk to forget about the way she made him feel. Had taken every woman to his bed who had crossed his path ever since in an effort to forget about her, even though it had only made him wish he was with her instead. He'd wanted to run away, to put some distance between them, to get on with his life and forget she'd ever existed. But seeing her here, now, he knew he couldn't do any of those things, and no distance would be enough.

Instead, he smiled roguishly and winked.

"Come on now, ladyship. I'll never find a prettier backside to follow into battle. If I'm going to die, I might as well enjoy the view."


	18. Apocrypha

"Are you sure about this?"

"That seems rather moot. I don't see that I have much choice."

Aellana sat cross-legged on Bishop's bed at the Inn, the Black Book placed in front of her, its cover glinting menacingly in the half-light of the candles.

"There's always a choice, Lana. You could just walk away and let Skyrim sort out its own problems for once. What has the place ever done for you?"

Aellana found it difficult to argue with that. She'd grown up privileged, but the people who had worked hard to give her that privilege were gone. The rest of the place was filled with people like her mother, or Jurgarinson. Did she really want to kill herself trying to save those people?

But then she thought about Thaiden, and Frea.  Frea, whose father had sacrificed himself to bring her to this moment. Even her godfather Balgruuf. They were good people, and innocent. She couldn't sit idly by while they suffered for her inaction. She had the final word of power now. She'd come this far. How could she live with herself if she turned away?

She breathed in deep and sighed. Bishop knew what it meant, and he growled his displeasure but thankfully didn't say anything further. Aellana shook herself, cracked her neck and leaned forward as Bishop took his seat beside the bed. He'd agreed to stand watch while she travelled back to Apocrypha. A woman alone in an Inn, on a bed, and unable to wake? There was no way he was going to let anyone get their filthy hands on her. Aellana reached for the black book, turning it over slowly in her hands, running her fingers over the cover and down the spine. Bishop grunted in pain as he realised he'd dug his nails into his palm, deep enough to draw blood. The tension of impending danger and the pure sensuality of the way her hands trailed their way across the leather of the book created a heady mix of sex and violence.

"Let's get this over with then," he said, harsher than he'd intended. Regardless, it had the desired effect, and Aellana nodded and opened the book.

 

* * *

 

She was in Apocrypha once again. The wind howled around her, tossing ancient pages into the air, twirling them like dervishes. The sky was green, emitting a light that was filled with menace and seemed to ooze with destructive power. Apart from the wind, everything was silent, the only sound the echo of her own footsteps and the clink of her sword belt as she moved her way across the platform on which she'd appeared.

Aellana's heart beat in her chest. Her presence here felt somehow final, and she knew that if she didn't defeat Miraak, then she would never again see the light of day.

"I'm sorry, Bishop," she whispered.

Another book stood on a pedestal at the far end of the platform, and Aellana followed along blindly, hating the fact that Apocrypha itself seemed to want to prolong her suffering. If she had to die today, she'd at least like to get on with it. Instead, she was being forced down paths and corridors which only served to heighten her fear as she had time to contemplate what was about to happen.

She passed bodies as she walked. No doubt they were ancient seekers of wisdom who had thought to leverage Hermaeus Mora for his knowledge. The bodies were burned with magic and slashed to the bone. It didn't take a genius to know that lurkers had inflicted the wounds. Aellana stayed on her guard, ready to fend off any creatures that either Hermaeus Mora or Miraak would throw at her. She cut down any that appeared indiscriminately and without mercy. She barely registered the attacks, merely hacking and slashing, moving ever forward to meet her inevitable fate.

She seemed to walk forever, the paths of Apocrypha twisting and turning, leading out into cavernous room after cavernous room. Every time she reached another book and prepared herself for what waited beyond, it simply led her to more and more corridors, more platforms, and more piles and piles of books filled with untold knowledge.

Aellana started to feel herself tire. The adrenaline that had carried her this far was beginning to wane as she succumbed to the monotony of her surrounds.

"What do you want?' she screamed upward into the ether.

She was confident that someone or something could hear her. She knew she was being watched. Observed. Judged. She couldn't help but feel that she was being toyed with, being led around and around to see how she'd react. Whatever the desired effect Aellana was sure it wasn't what she was feeling right now. She wasn't distressed, she wasn't nervous anymore. All she felt was frustrated, angry, and to even her own surprise she realised she was bored. After everything she'd been through, after all the self-doubt and the fear, this prolonging, this waiting seemed almost anti-climactic.

Suddenly something shifted and changed. The atmosphere, the air itself seemed to move and seethe, guiding her steps toward something in the distance. In a chamber just beyond she saw a pillar of green fire shoot up into the sky, its light was blinding, making the hair all over her body prickle with magic. She looked down at her hands. They were sparking, unbidden, the lure of the flame drawing magic from her body in little jets of destruction. So this was it. The time was finally here. Aellana was ready.

She reached out, touched the book that sat on a pedestal before her and felt the magic take hold. Suddenly she was in an open space, the sky flashing green as it was torn open. Holes appeared, the grasping, clutching tentacles of unseen creatures trying to claw their way free as her mind filled with the voices that she had come to recognise, filling her with words and power, making her brave, filling her with fire and strength.

Just as the voices faded, an ear-splitting roar pervaded the space, making the ground shake with its force. A dragon flew down from above, screaming its fury, landing just a few paces away from Aellana. But she felt no fear. Instead, she planted her feet firmly, drew her sword and stood, ready for battle. The dragon observed her for a moment, but before Aellana could register that something was horribly, terribly wrong, it let out a stream of icy breath, freezing her to the spot. She barely had time to curse her own stupidity and hubris before she felt the darkness claimed her, cold spreading from her limbs right to her core. With the last of her strength, she used her Voice.

**"GOL HAH DOV"**

 

* * *

 

"Lana! Wake up, godsdammit!" Aellana came to with Bishop shaking her fiercely.  _Shit, shit, shit. No!_

"Bishop, let go of me!"

He pulled back as he realised she was awake. Her body shivered uncontrollably, her skin like ice, but she seemed aware. Bishop breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been in this bed for two days now, and Bishop hadn't left her side the entire time (except where necessary for the sake of decency).

"Is it done?"

"Shit. SHIT! No. I have to go back. I know what the third word of power does. Where's the book?"

"You can't go back in! You're freezing."

"I've controlled a dragon, Bish. I have to go back. NOW!"

He looked like she'd just slapped him across the face. Without another word, he passed her the book.

 

* * *

 

The dragon was there, ready and waiting. It breathed calmly, tilting its head quizzically as she approached. Her limbs were still stiff and her mind foggy from its attack, but she made sure to stand straight and proud as she walked toward the hulking creature. She extended a hand, bowed her head ever so slightly and approached it carefully. It let out a low growl, and Aellana stiffened, her heart fluttering with fear. But she kept walking, one step at a time, until her hand connected with the Dragon's nose.

It snapped its head back, and Aellana had to stop herself from flinching so as not to spook it. She stood still, her hand outstretched as if in supplication. The dragon waited for a few heartbeats and then slowly brought its head forward, nuzzling her outstretched palm. A grin spread across her face at what she'd just accomplished. She gently stroked her hand down the Dragon's muzzle, hearing it grunt in pleasure at the sensation of her touch. Slowly she moved to the side, never letting her hand leave its skin, which was surprisingly warm and soft, like silk under her fingers.

The Dragon's scales shimmered as it breathed, the light playing over it like oil on water. Every muscle was clearly defined as it moved its head slowly, tracking her movement. For the first time, she looked into its eyes, and it was like looking into a deep, dark pool. They gleamed with intelligence and wisdom, but despite her control of it, she could see its anger, deep and dark, like a coiled spring, ready to let loose as soon as the spell was broken. She took hold of the ridges behind its head, hoisting herself up onto its neck, using her legs and arms to hold herself steady.

The Dragon bucked and writhed nearly shaking her loose, but she clung on, letting the power of her Voice soothe the beast. She felt it resist her, but still, she held on, forcing it into submission. With a last burst of energy, the creature flung itself into the air, diving, and twirling, but Aellana held on. The beast soon tired, and she could almost sense its resignation as it realised she held it in thrall, whether he wanted it or no.

"Beware. Miraak is strong. He knew you would come." The voice of the Dragon boomed in her mind, and Aellana nearly let go in her surprise. She knew that Dragons had their own language but had never even considered that she could speak to them!

"I'm ready for him."

"Do not be so sure," the Dragon snickered.

She sent a jolt of magic into his back, and she felt rather than heard him scream in anger as he gave in to her power. They flew through the darkened skies, ducking and weaving over the waves that jostled below like trapped souls. Aellana didn't know where they were going, but she sensed the Dragon was taking her to Miraak. Her death would mean his freedom, and Miraak was the only one who could accomplish that.

They flew up and up, weaving between columns that speared into the sky until they alighted on a plateau, far above the waves that still crashed below. Miraak was there, standing still in the centre, waiting patiently with ill-disguised confidence.

"Sahrotaar, are you so easily swayed?" Even through the mask, the sneer in his voice was crystal clear, and the Dragon (Sahrotaar, Aellana supposed) grunted in frustration.

"I may control the Dragon, but we both know he would have brought me here, regardless." That drew a laugh from Miraak, cold and calculating. He gestured for her to dismount, and she did, standing before him with crisp, steely defiance.

"Here we are then. The first and the last Dragonborn, together, at the summit of Apocrypha."

"We're being played, one against the other. Hermaeus Mora has orchestrated this. You have never been the master of your own destiny."

"WRONG!" Miraak roared, and the ground seemed to shake with the fury of his scream. Aellana took an involuntary step back as he calmed himself. "Or at least you will be. I intend to be free of him and end my time in Apocrypha. We are both Dragonborn. We hold more power than any other in all of Skyrim. I will kill you and absorb your soul becoming the master of my own fate, once again."

"That's what you think." Aellana planted her feet, calmed her mind and drew on her magic. Her hands sparked with electricity, and with a grin, a wink, and a cheeky smirk she beckoned to Miraak. "Begin."

Miraak roared, and as he did, his armour began to glow with flame. It burst with red and blue, emitting heat and magic as they circled one another. They tested the water, feeling for the other's power, until finally, with a roar, Aellana let out a stream of lightning. Miraak laughed. It barely even touched him, and with a sinking feeling, Aellana knew that she'd have to draw on every ounce of strength she had to best him.

Miraak Shouted, making her stumble and fall on her backside. He was on her in seconds, and Aellana only just managed to roll out of the way before being roasted by the jet of orange flame that Miraak unleashed at her head. She smelled burning hair, and looked down at her shoulder, seeing a chunk of her still raven locks burn away and flutter to the floor like feathers. That was all it took. She released a Shout, sending him flying through the air, a look of almost comical surprise on his face. She could have sworn she heard laughter filter through the air but didn't dwell on it. Hermaeus Mora could wait.

She didn't know how long the fought. Minutes, hours, or days, it didn't matter. Time seemed to blur and still. The two Dragonborn exchanged blows and Shouts, neither gaining the upper hand. They began to stumble, their energy and magic draining as the moments passed.

"The fates," Miraak puffed out, his voice choked with weariness, "have decreed you must...die. I must...win...my freedom." 

He turned to Sahrotaar, who still stood to the side, bearing witness and let out a burst of magic that exploded around the Dragon. Aellana had only enough time to catch a glimpse of the Dragon's look of surprise and betrayal before he collapsed to the ground, his soul, energy, and power, speeding toward Miraak, giving him a second wind. A powerful burst of flame got her right in the chest, and she felt herself burning, screaming in pain and frustration. She summoned a healing spell to quench the fire, taking advantage of Miraak's temporary indisposition. He'd used too much magic all at once, weakening himself.

He laughed, cold and harsh. "I know things that the Greybeards, old fools that they are, could never teach you."

"You think that makes you special?" Aellana scoffed. "I know things the Greybeards could never teach me." 

She ran at him with her sword. Miraak had a powerful voice and stronger magic than she did. She was not too vain as to be unable to admit that. But she was a skilled fighter. Miraak had relied on magic to make him powerful, and now he was spent. She drew her sword and watched him pull his own weapon. He lunged at her, but his movements were sloppy and slow, and she effortlessly danced out of reach of his blade. She nicked and cut, weakening him even more as she pierced his armour again and again.

"No. This cannot be. I am master of my own fate!" He screamed his frustrated desires to the sky, whether to Hermaeus Mora or some other deity, Aellana couldn't be sure. He tried to run, limping away, his cowardice showing plain. But their platform was elevated far above a seething ocean of grasping tentacles. There was nowhere for him to run.

"It's over, Miraak."

"Hermaeus Mora will betray you, just as he has betrayed me."

"There is nothing to betray. I'm here to kill you. I want nothing from him." She moved to make the killing blow, but as she let her sword descend it hit nothing but stone. Miraak was gone.

Aellana looked around in confusion, unsure what had just happened. But then she saw it. In the centre of the platform, Miraak was rising into the air, through unseen magic, twisting and writhing in pain, trying to escape whatever force was holding him there.

"Did you think to escape me Miraak?" The voice of Hermaeus Mora boomed around them, making Aellana clutch her head in pain. As she watched, a dark, slimy black tentacle shot up from the ground, spearing Miraak where he floated. She heard him grunt in surprise and pain. "You are in my realm. You can hide nothing from me here!"

Miraak turned his head to her, reaching out a hand, pleading for mercy.

"No matter," Hermaeus Mora continued, as the power and light slowly began to fade from Miraak's eyes. "I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me."

"Like hell you have!" Aellana would not be trapped here. She did control her own fate, and there was nothing Hermaeus Mora could do or offer her that would make her become like Miraak.

"May she be rewarded as I am," Miraak laughed, the sound strained and painful as he coughed up blood.

"You were rebellious Miraak. If this new Dragonborn serves me faithfully, she will be rewarded, as you once were."

Power flared up around them, and Aellana watched in horror as Miraak screamed in pain, his body slowly disintegrating before her eyes. His eyes locked with hers in his final moments, and instead of the evil she had expected to see, she saw fear, pain, and sorrow. But most surprisingly she saw regret. 

In his final moments, she felt him summon what little power he had left. He let his soul fly free, sending it toward her in a burst of energy, surrounding her in his pain, hurt, and memories. It brought tears to her eyes, and despite everything he had done, the people he had killed, and the lives he had destroyed, she felt pity, and above all, a sense of kinship. Power and responsibility came hand in hand. How easy it would be to give in to it, to seek control of all things. She had an anchor in the people she cared about. Miraak had been alone until the very end.

"I will NEVER serve you!" Aella cried her pain and frustration into the void above her.

"We shall see, Dragonborn. We shall see."

 

* * *

 

Aellana sat up in the bed, trembling and sore. Bishop was fast asleep in a chair beside her, looking haggard. He seemed different somehow, and it took her a moment to realise that he had the beginnings of a beard! By the gods, how long had she been gone? Bishop's eyes flew open as he felt her move, his hand instinctively flying to the dagger at his waist. He looked around wildly, his gaze widening as he took in Aellana's appearance.

She was bruised, her eyes blackened with exhaustion. She was covered in burns, her body smelled of singed hair, and looking down she realised that she was missing a chunk out of the ends where Miraak had set it alight. But despite it all, she smiled, and her body fell back in relief as she realised what she'd accomplished.

"It's over," she whispered, as Bishop slumped back in his chair. "Let's go home."

***

The Skaal Village was exactly as they had left it. Aellana had half expected it to feel different. She hadn't expected a welcome parade or anything, but it seemed somehow wrong to see life continuing as usual for the villagers when she had quite literally just saved them from impending doom. Still, she chided herself, they had lost their leader, and many had lost friends and loved ones to Miraak's influence. They were doing the best they could to keep a semblance of normalcy in an otherwise mad time.

Thaiden was the first to greet her as they entered Frea's hut.

"I knew you'd come back. Never doubted you for a second."

Aellana grinned, as Thaiden turned to Bishop who entered the hut close on her heels.  _Thank you_ , he mouthed, and Bishop inclined his head.

Frea paused in the doorway to her room as she caught sight of Aellana. The pain of her father's passing still showed clearly on her face, but despite that she came over, catching Aellana in a fierce embrace.

"I'm glad you're safe. I can feel the land healing. Miraak's influence is gone." She pulled back, giving Aellana an appraising look. She was still bruised, battered, and dishevelled. "Thank you."

Aellana smiled warmly. It had all been worth it to earn Frea's forgiveness. She had become fond of the woman. With so few she could trust, having a close female friend felt like a little slice of the ordinary in an otherwise mad world.

"Miraak is dead. He will never hurt your people again."

"So my father's sacrifice was not in vain." Frea's eyes filled with tears, but they weren't sad exactly. They were grateful. Grateful for the acknowledgment of Storn's sacrifice and the vital part he played in freeing Solstheim and the Skaal.

"Without his sacrifice, I could never have reached Miraak. The final word of power helped me control a dragon. Without it, Miraak would still be alive, and more powerful than ever." 

It was mostly true. The dragon had helped her reach Miraak, but she did not doubt that he would have sought her out regardless had she not learned the final word of power. Hermaeus Mora had manipulated her and then betrayed them. But Frea didn't need to hear that. It would not bring her peace.

"Hermaeus Mora is still out there, and dangerous." Frea looked genuinely worried as she clasped Aellana's hands, imparting her advice. "He forced us to serve him to destroy Miraak. Please, do not trust him."

"Don't worry, my friend. I never again want to have any dealings with that monster. There is nothing he could offer me that would entice me into his service."

"I am glad to hear it." Frea looked relieved. "One more thing, if I may?"

"Anything." Aellana smiled warmly at the other woman. Frea looked down at her feet, shuffling them nervously before continuing.

"May I, that is, if you don't mind...May I join you, back in Skyrim?"

Thaiden looked up in surprise, exchanging a look with Frea who blushed crimson at his scrutiny.

"Of course!" Aellana couldn't have been gladder at Frea's decision.

"But Frea, what about your people?" Thaiden asked, hope entering his words with fear in equal measure as he worried she would change her mind.

"Miraak is gone. I was raised to be Shaman, but I feel my path will lead me elsewhere. If they need me, I will return, but for now, they will do well to govern themselves." She turned to Aellana, "I have learned a great deal from you. You have forged your own path with strength and dignity. I find that I must do the same. I have a responsibility to my people, and to fulfill that I need to experience the world outside of Solstheim. This is the best way that I can serve my people."

Thaiden took Frea in his arms then and kissed her deeply. Aellana and Bishop stood stunned for a few moments before bursting out laughing as Frea smiled and blushed when Thaiden pulled away. They were linked now, the four of them. Aellana may have been the Dragonborn, but she was nothing without these people. They were her lifeline and the hope for Skyrim's future.


	19. Ale and Wenches

"Why here? It feels a little crowded after Solstheim."

Now that Miraak was dead, and no set plans on where they would go next, Aellana had decided to go back to Whiterun on their return to Skyrim. They all needed time to rest and recuperate before, she supposed, they should set out to find the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller for the Greybeards. Her battle with Miraak had been difficult and had sapped nearly every ounce of her strength. She was surprised she'd made it out alive. She never wanted to be in that position again, and as much as she hated to admit it, the Greybeards were her best hope at honing her skills as a Dragonborn.

"It's safe," she said quietly, ignoring the scowl on Bishop's face at how cryptic she was being. She knew she'd have to tell him the truth about who she was sooner or later, but didn't feel ready to face that conversation yet.

The four companions walked into the Bannered Mare. They'd not had an opportunity to socialise yet, and the Inn had seemed inviting, especially in comparison to the cramped quarters on the ship that they'd shared crossing over from Solstheim. With Thaiden's debilitating seasickness, and what turned out to be Frea's crippling fear of water, it had been stressful just getting this far.  

Thaiden hurried over to the bar immediately to order them all drinks while Frea commandeered a table by the hearth. She was wide-eyed at the bustle of the Inn. There were likely more people in this room than she had in her entire village, and Aellana laughed at the wonderment of the other woman. She sat down next to Frea, patting the seat beside her, encouraging Bishop to join them just as Thaiden appeared with four, frothing mugs of ale. They toasted the end of their journey, or at least this part of it, letting themselves relax for the first time since they'd all been together.

Off to the side, something caught Aellana's eye. She felt a prickling at the back of her neck as if they were being observed. She stiffened, on high alert, peering cautiously around to find the source of her sudden panic. Off to the side, by the doorway stood a woman who gazed at them through lowered lids. At first, Aellana thought she was staring at her. Who could she be? Did Sigrund send her? Had she been discovered? But suddenly she realised that look was not directed at her. The woman was staring at Bishop with a dark, almost predatory eyes. She could almost have sworn she saw the woman lick her lips as she started toward their table.

She wasn't unattractive, Aellana had to admit. Her hair was cut short, sitting just above her shoulders. It swayed as she walked, framing her face and sparkling with gold flecks in the firelight of the hearth. Her garments revealed more than they concealed, but what they did reveal was gorgeous. The woman was all curves, with long, shapely legs, an ample bosom and slender arms that swayed seductively as she walked.   Most of the men in the tavern were spellbound, watching her move through the crowd.

Within moments she was beside their table, leaning provocatively against the stained wood beside Bishop. He barely spared her glance, continuing the conversation that he was having with Thaiden who raised his eyebrows while pointing his eyes in the woman's direction. Bishop just rolled his own eyes, not wanting to get drawn into whatever game this woman was playing.

She stood there for a moment longer, her knuckles whitening at Bishop's blatant dismissal of her, positioning herself even closer to him, leaning down, so her breasts were just below his eye line. At that he finally looked up, giving her a withering stare.

"Do you mind?"

She laughed, clear as a bell, her voice tinkling. When she finally spoke her words were thickly seductive.

"I'm Neeshka." She leaned further forward to whisper into Bishop's ear, and Aellana only just heard her over the din of the Inn. "Do you think I'm pretty?" By the gods, the nerve of the woman! She was almost impressed at how brazen she was, curious to see how the situation would play out.

Bishop didn't even try to hide his annoyance or moderate his volume as he replied simply, "No, I don't. I think you're a pest."

Thaiden snorted ale out his nose, Frea looked like someone had just shown her something she shouldn't have seen, and Aellana forced herself to hold back her laughter. Neeshka looked dumbstruck, completely unable to comprehend what had just happened. A woman like that, Aellana supposed, was not used to being told no very often. But she didn't move away, apparently not satisfied by the insult.

"Innkeeper!" Bishop called a man over from behind the bar. "We'll need two rooms for the night."

"Um, Bishop?" Aellana interjected, but the Innkeeper was already shaking his head.

"Only one room available I'm afraid."

"I think I can help you there, big man." Neeshka jumped at the opportunity, giving the Ranger a seductive wink. "You can share my room tonight."

"Go away, flea," Bishop ground out, turning back to the Innkeeper. Before he could speak further, Aellana put a hand on his arm, which earned her a vicious glare from Neeshka.

"It's ok Bishop. Sorry, I should have said earlier, I have a house here in Whiterun. I'd offer you a room, but I've already offered it to Frea," the Nord woman inclined her head graciously, "and Thaiden has his quarters with the Companions."

"Now you tell me! In that case, I'll take the room." He turned to Aellana, "Is your home secure?"

"I um," Aellana cleared her throat, embarrassed, "I have a housecarl, Lydia, as protection. I'm, um, sort of the Thane of Whiterun."

Bishop stared at her, his expression unreadable. Thaiden, on the other hand, looked like this was the most fun he'd had in his life, clearly revelling in the Ranger's discomfort. Frea looked like she had no idea what was going on, (which to be fair, she didn't), and Aellana wanted to sink into the ground and let it swallow her whole.

The Innkeeper was utterly oblivious to the entire exchange, intent only on completing the transaction. He made his way back to the bar, beckoning for Bishop to follow, while Neeshka eagerly chased him, like a dog with a bone. The three of them watched the pair move to the other side of the Inn, Neeshka trying to get his attention, and Bishop losing his patience with every attempt at conversation. She was still hot on his heels as he returned to the table when he finally snapped.

"I told you to get lost, flea!" He rounded on her with the vicious, animal look that Aellana had seen so many times before, lowering his voice to a growl. "Maybe I should put you over my knee for being such a pest."

Neeshka, however, was undeterred. Instead of pulling away at his threat, she flushed a bright crimson, her breath hitching in her throat. "Would you?" She looked at him imploringly. "I like it rough."

"You are really starting to test my patience." Aellana had never seen him look quite this irritated before. She was surprised, as Bishop was usually so ready to pounce on the first available woman. Neeshka was attractive and incredibly willing. She couldn't see a single reason why Bishop would be so vehemently refusing her. "I know your kind. You're a parasite. You're the kind of woman who attaches herself to the first available body for food, protection or whatever else it is you need. You're weak, unable to fend for yourself. You want someone else to do it for you. I don't have the time or the inclination to teach you the harsh realities of life. Go find yourself another man to attach yourself to."

"But you are what I desire in a man. You look like you know a few things about desire. I could be that for you." Bishop's harsh words barely seemed to phase her, so intent was she on his seduction.

"By the gods woman, I am not interested!"

"Let me show you. I'm exactly what you need."

"I have everything I need right here, thank you."

The four of them were touched. It was the closest Bishop had come to sentimentality since they'd met. Aellana smiled at him widely, and he returned it with a warmth in his eyes that she could have sworn she'd never seen there before.

Neeshka looked at them both, her glance flitting between them. Her seductive pout turned sour, her eyes clouding over with anger.

"What's so special about  _her_?" Neeshka was looking straight at her, and Aellana had to force herself to meet the woman's gaze. Friendship was something this woman clearly knew nothing about, and Aellana wasn't going to be intimidated or embarrassed by her.

"She just is. Now, please, get lost!"

"I'd be better for you than her. Come upstairs with me, and I can prove it to you." She reached out, grabbing for Bishop's arm, and within seconds he had her hand pinned to the table, his dagger in his hand pointed straight at Neeshka's breasts, where her heart would be.

"Step away, or die," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. Aellana put a restraining hand on the arm that held the dagger, trying to calm the Ranger. That he would make good on his threat, she had no doubt.

"I just want to be with you." Neeshka's voice was heavy with desire, clearly relishing the sense of danger, utterly unperturbed by the knife at her breast.

"Not going to happen."

"Neeshka. If you value your life, I suggest you leave now." It was the first time Aellana had spoken, and Neeshka seemed surprised to hear her voice.

"And who do you think you are?" Neeshka's mouth curved into a cruel sneer, and something in Aellana just snapped. She was tired of being treated like she had no control. She controlled her own life, and she refused to be talked down to by some tavern whore. She was tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of solving everyone else's problems and trying to be so damn diplomatic all the time!

She stood, and despite her Breton blood making her much shorter than the Nord woman, she rose majestically, and to every bystander her proud posture and confident frame made it seem as if she towered above the other woman.

"I am Aellana Evensnow, Thane of Whiterun, and god-daughter to its Jarl. And you," she paused for effect, "are not welcome here."

Neeshka's face fell. She barely uttered a sound as she turned on her heel and left, the entire Inn watching her retreat as Aellana sat back down, giving Bishop an apologetic smile.

"Well, that was certainly entertaining!" Thaiden couldn't stop grinning, as he burst into laughter. It was infectious, and the three of them found themselves laughing along with him as the tension of the last few moments quickly ebbed away.

"Well, Bishop. You certainly have a way with the ladies." It was the first time Frea had made a joke, and even Bishop found himself able to laugh at his own expense.

"It must be my animal magnetism," he winked at Frea who laughed. They bantered about for a few moments longer until finally, it was Aellana who sobered first.

"Frea, Bishop, I owe you an explanation."

"Yeah, ladyship, you do." The laughter was gone from Bishop's eyes now. "Tell us everything."

And she did.

She told them about Tynand, Frea embracing her tearfully as she did so. She told them about her forced betrothal, and that she'd had to conceal her identity to hide from the well-connected nobleman who was scouring all of Skyrim for her whereabouts. Thaiden held her hand as she told them about her mother's betrayal, Bishop's eyes glazing with anger at every new revelation. She told them about discovering she was the Dragonborn and even filled Frea in on her meeting with the Greybeards. With permission from Thaiden, she explained to Frea what happens when she absorbs a dragon's soul. Bishop had already experienced it to some extent and went white as she described it all, remembering his mad trek through Solstheim, an unconscious Aellana in his arms.

When her story was finished, she felt lighter, refreshed. Bishop said nothing, just took her hand in his, lending her comfort with his presence.

She wouldn't hide anymore. She was a far cry from the frightened girl who had come to Whiterun alone all those months ago. She would not be cowed or intimidated.

And best of all, she wasn't alone.


	20. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter this time. I was going to write a lot more, but thematically this seemed to stand on its own, and with my work schedule I didn't want to wait too long for an update. I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas, and wishing you all a Happy New Year!

            "Bloody cryptic old men and their stupid quests," Aellana grumbled loudly, shaking stones from her boots. The Horn of Jurgen Windcaller was legendary. Everyone had heard of it. But it turned out that no one actually knew where it was, and the Greybeards had conveniently forgotten to give them the location. Frea and Thaiden had travelled East, and she and Bishop had moved West to cover more ground, planning to ask in hamlets, villages, and camps along the way to see if anyone had heard rumours of its location. They planned to meet in Morthal within four days, and two had already passed with no hint of where they were meant to be going.

Bishop was lighting a fire, preparing the camp for them. He snickered under his breath at her foul mood, and Aellana shot him a glare that she hoped was sufficiently conveying how much she hated everything right now, including him. He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Don't look at me like that, ladyship. You're the mighty Dragonborn," his voice was heavy with sarcasm. "I can think of about a hundred things I'd rather be doing right now that trecking through these damn woods for...what were we looking for exactly?"

"Please, Bish. I'm not in the mood." Aella spread her bedroll by the fire. "I'm exhausted, can we just go to sleep?"

"Want me to join you?" He winked at her and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. She grabbed her shoe from next to the bedroll and threw it right at his head. He laughed at that, climbing into his own bedroll. "I'm gonna take that as a maybe. Sweet dreams, Princess." He turned his back to her, Karnwyr slinking over to flatten himself against it. Aellana stared at them both for a moment before lying down once again. She listened to their steady breathing letting it calm her foul mood, and within moments was fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Aellana bolted upright. The forest echoed with the sounds of screaming, and it took her a few moments to realise that she was the source of it. She looked around wildly, palms sweaty and gripped at her blankets, trying to calm her shattered nerves and beating heart. She must have been dreaming, but she couldn't remember. All she had now was the feeling of dread that engulfed her like a deep, dark ocean threatening to drown her. The panic deepened, and her chest constricted as if a huge weight pressed on it. She tried to draw breath, but the more she struggled to breathe the harder it was for her to get air into her lungs. She looked up at Bishop, terrified.

He slapped her.

Her head whipped up, white-hot anger radiating from her gaze. Instead of apologising he put a hand over her mouth making shushing motions.

"For the love of the Gods woman, do you want to call down every predator in these woods?" His words were harsh, but she could have sworn she saw concern in his eyes. She forced herself to calm down, swallowing her fear and giving him a nod to signal she was alright. He took his hand from her mouth and opened his own to speak, when a sound in the distance made them both stop, stock still.

A gust of wind lifted the ends of Aellana's hair, the sudden silence punctuated by the beat of wings. Suddenly, an ear-splitting roar shook the ground between them, and they turned as one to see a dragon eyeing them menacingly through the treeline. They dove sideways just as a blast of icy breath came hurtling toward them.

"Not this again," she heard Bishop mutter under his breath. She quite agreed. A few months ago there had been no Dragons in Skyrim, and now they seemed to appear at the most inopportune times and make a beeline for her directly.  _Well, you are the Dragonborn_ , she reminded herself, but couldn't continue the thought as she was forced to dodge another blast of ice from the Dragon's menacing jaws. Bishop was already running full pelt at the beast, dagger drawn. Aellana was surprised at how much the Ranger could accomplish with such a small weapon.

"Lana, NOW!" Bishop was ducking and weaving, trying to keep the Dragon distracted. She took the opportunity to run alongside it, vault onto its head and bury her own sword deep between its eyes. The dragon shuddered, groaned and collapsed to the ground.

The soul flew at her in a blaze of purple and orange light. It hit her with force this time, knocking her to the ground and making her groan with the strength of its power. The light faded, leaving her buzzing with magic, every nerve burning. She stood shakily, limping her way to where Bishop stood, leaning against a tree for support, staring at her.

As she passed him, he grabbed her wrist.

"Ow, Bishop. You're hurting me." He hardly seemed to hear her as he pulled her forward, pinning her to the tree, his breath hot and heavy against her neck as he leaned down, trailing a kiss from her ear down her throat.

"I want you, princess. I have to have you."

"Bishop...please," but she felt it too. At this moment she wanted him more than she'd wanted any other man. She felt her knees weaken, and her skin tingle with desire as he ran his hands over her arms, moving them down her back to clasp at her backside.

"Let me get you out of this armour, ladyship," and as he reached for the lacings on her bodice, she felt herself arch to meet his hands. She reached up to touch his cheek.

"Bishop," she whispered.

"Give me my knife, and I'll cut you out of it," he growled. And the tone of his voice snapped her back to awareness. This was all wrong! This is not how she wanted this to happen.

"Bishop, STOP!" She pushed him back, and he stumbled on a tree root, sprawling to the ground, shaking himself from what seemed almost a trancelike state. He looked up at Aellana, her hair dishevelled, her cheeks flushed, and he felt that stinging shame again. That was twice now that he'd nearly lost control. He put his head in his hand and groaned aloud.

"Forgive me, ladyship."

Aellana sank down on the ground next to him, careful not to touch him. The spark between them was real, and she didn't want to jeopardise that.

"Don't be sorry Bishop. If I kiss you, I want it to be because we want to. This is the dragon soul acting for us. It's not real. I want the first time to be real."

He looked up at her, his expression utterly unreadable before getting up and disappearing into the woods without a word.

 _Smooth Aellana, real smooth_ , she thought to herself. Bishop was guarded. She'd overplayed her hand and spooked him. He now probably thought she was a tease, or worse, desperate. More than anything she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. If he were still here in the morning, she'd make sure never to mention this night again.


	21. Friends Like These

    The Moorside Inn was warm and cozy. It felt like a home, and Aellana supposed that's because it was. Business was not exactly booming, and she and Bishop had struck up a conversation with the proprietor, Jonna as they waited for Frea and Thaiden to join them. She was a friendly woman of middle age, and they had learned all about how she and her brother had settled in Morthal after emigrating from Hammerfell, turning their home into a resting stop for travellers like themselves.

The reality was that Jonna was a distraction. They'd made it to Morthal but had come empty-handed. She and Bishop had asked everywhere, even stopping to request information from some roadside bandits, but to no avail. No one knew the final location of the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller.

"Is business always this slow?" Aellana enquired, gesturing to the largely empty hall.

"I suppose so," Jonna shrugged, wiping down the bar as she spoke. "There were few enough reasons to pass through Morthal before the war started," she said, referring to the civil war that still raged through Skyrim. "Now? Well, let's just say the front door doesn't get much use. It's rare that I have this many visitors all at once."

"People don't usually travel in pairs through Morthal then?" Bishop asked cheekily, and Aellana gave him a playful punch on the leg under the table.

"Not usually two pairs so close to each other, no."

Aellana looked up at that. "There are people here already?"

"A couple arrived two nights ago. Haven't left their room since, except for meals." She gave Bishop and Aellana a wink.

"Nords? Both of them big? Both of them blonde?" Jonna looked like she was going to make a sarcastic reply, probably along the lines of the fact that she'd just described most of the Nords of Skyrim, when Aellana added, "one of them carries a greatsword?"

"Them's the ones! Friends of yours?"

"For now," Bishop ground out, sharing a look with Aellana that spoke what they were both feeling. They'd spent days tramping across all of Skyrim while their friends had been cozying up in an Inn, probably laughing at them the whole time. Traitors!

As if on queue, Frea and Thaiden descended the stairs behind the bar, giving Jonna a friendly wave before catching sight of Bishop and Aellana who both sat glaring daggers at the pair.

Thaiden broke into a full-bellied laugh as he took in their expressions.

"Didn't I tell you they'd be angry?" he said, turning to Frea with a smile, who was trying to stifle her own giggles.

"Let me guess," she said. "You didn't find anything?"

"At least we looked," Bishop grumbled, which earned him another laugh from Thaiden, one that Frea promptly joined him in, sitting down at their table and motioning for Jonna to bring another round of ale.

"Well, in that case, I won't tell you where to find the Horn, since I couldn't possibly know." Thaiden leaned back in his chair, waiting for their reaction.

"You mean you found it?" Aellana's anger was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Just outside of town. We're practically right on top of it."

"Four days," Bishop groaned. "Four fucking days of hiking and the bloody horn was here the whole bloody time?"

"It's in Ustengrav, just north-east of here." Frea leaned forward, producing a map from a satchel and spreading it out on the table between them. "Turns out it's Jurgen Windcaller's burial site."

"Frea. I could kiss you," Bishop joked, leaning over the table, lips puckered, which earned him a steely look from Thaiden.

"Hands off, Ranger," he said as Frea laughed and gently pushed Bishop away. She turned to Thaiden, kissing him deeply and with real affection. Aellana felt herself smile at the pair as Jonna brought their ales, basking in the glow of happiness that radiated from them. Almost unconsciously her hand found Bishop's under the table, and for a moment their fingers intertwined as if it was the most natural thing in the world. A few seconds later she felt him stiffen and slip his hand from her grasp. The spell was broken, leaving her in stunned silence, the warmth of calm replaced by the burn of embarrassment at the Ranger's rebuke.

 

* * *

 

The bodies were still warm as they approached the entrance to Ustengrav. The swamp grasses had obscured the ground, and Aellana had almost tripped over the first of them before she'd seen it. The blood was fresh, barely congealed as she'd bent down to examine it. He was a young bandit, barely out of his teens, and despite the fact that he'd probably killed many others, she still found herself saddened at the wasted potential of snuffed out youth.

But he wasn't the only body. Littered along the path to the burial site were dozens of others. There were bandits and mages scattered about, and at first, Aellana thought perhaps they'd killed each other off. But the wounds were too uniform as if made by the same weapon.

"Stay alert," she cautioned the others. "I don't think we'll be alone down there."

They descended the winding stairs to the entrance of the barrow. Another body lay speared, its cold, dead eyes staring at them glassily as they passed. The heavy wooden doors creaked as they pushed them open, revealing yet more dead bandits, the distant sounds of combat echoing toward them through the vaulted chamber. They followed the noise, silently creeping toward the sounds of crackling magic, clashing steel, and screams of pain. Bandits, mages and the occasional Draugr punctuated their descent, all of them dead by the time they got there.

"Everyone's dead," she heard Frea whisper to Thaiden behind her. Something wasn't right, and they were all on edge. They had come prepared for battle and what they had found was a tomb, both literally and figuratively. By now there were no more mages or bandits, the only bodies left were of those long gone. The Draugr that had risen from their tombs now lay sprawled haphazardly in every corridor.

Suddenly all was silent. The distant sounds of battle had stopped, and Aellana didn't know whether to be relieved or worried at that. She shared a concerned glance with her companions, no one willing to speak and break the silence that now engulfed them.

A blue glow in the distance drew them forward like moths to a flame. The chambers were dark, and the pale light was inviting, a beacon in the darkness of death. The path was punctuated with dimly glowing candles which seemed to be leading them toward the light source, the sound of rushing, breaking water cutting through the suddenly deafening silence. They came to an opening in the cavern wall which made Aellana stop and gasp aloud. The window looked out onto a natural oasis, deep within the earth.

Light streamed in from a hole in the rocks above them, bathing the vegetation and rocky pathways below in a soft glow that seemed to radiate from everything it touched. It was breathtaking. Waterfalls crashed into the deeps, glittering like diamonds in the pinpointed light from above, while the bridges and pathways crisscrossed, elevated above forests of pine trees far below like spiderwebs.

"Now that is something to behold," Frea breathed behind her.

They stood like that for a few moments, just taking in the vista before them. Thaiden had his arm gently around Frea's waist, she leaned her head lightly on his shoulder, and Aellana felt a pang of envy. Her envy wasn't directed at Frea, but at what the two of them so openly shared. She had never had that. There was always something else to occupy her time. Study, work, or travel, it didn't matter what. She'd never really wanted to let someone get that close in case it curtailed her freedom. She was selfish she supposed, a product of a selfish mother and being an only child.

"We need to keep moving," Bishop broke the silence, and Aellana looked at him gratefully. They gathered their thoughts and moved downward, back into the darkness, but toward the light.

They moved on platforms above the oasis, the footing treacherous. With each step stones fell and skittered to the bottom of the chasm, and despite its beauty, Aellana resolved not to look down lest she put a foot wrong. The path was worn by the crossing of hundreds of feet before theirs, which should have calmed her. But instead, it served only to show how treacherous the path was. When they once again put their feet on solid ground, they released their collective breaths. The danger of violence was quantifiable. The unknown threat of structural stability? Not so much.

They were at the bottom of the oasis, a bright, blue pool spreading out before them. The humming had begun a few moments ago, and Aellana knew that there would be an ancient word wall waiting for them. The forest around them was lush and verdant, and the colours seemed to become even more vibrant as she approached the wall, learning the word of power. Looking up to the cavern roof she saw the night sky twinkling down at her, and for a brief moment, she felt completely at peace, at one with the world, with nature, and with the magic flowing through her. She realised then that Miraak had recognised this power. But it had twisted and warped him. This is what it meant to be Dragonborn. These were her decisions to make. Power was not inherently good or evil. She would be remembered for what she chose to do with it.

They continued, all lost in their own thoughts. The cavernous tombs had been built around the oasis, hiding its ancient secrets. It made them wonder how many more such places existed in Skyrim, just waiting for someone to stumble across them. There could be whole worlds beneath their feet.

The air turned red, and a loud peal rang out, like the striking of a gong, shaking the walls, and sending more stones skittering down from the pathways above them. Bishop unsheathed his dagger in a single, fluid motion, crouching like an animal waiting to pounce. The rest of them drew their weapons and stood rooted to the spot, waiting for an attack. But none came. Aellana motioned for her companions to stay where they were and took a step forward. The light and sound flashed once more, but this time they were prepared.

Three rocks had been erected in the centre of the cavern, and as she neared the first, the patterns on its surface flashed red. It was the source of both the sound and light. She moved toward the next two and saw that toward the back of the cavern, a series of gates now stood open, allowing them passage. She walked toward it, but within moments the lights faded and the gates snapped shut once more, barring the way. She motioned her companions to each stand by one of the glowing stones, hoping they could keep the gates open long enough for her to get through, but even with them standing there, the light still faded, and the gates snapped shut.

Aellana cried out in frustration, punching the nearest stone so hard she whimpered in pain. Bishop laughed, and she glared at him, stinging tears of pain briefly clouding her vision.

"Aren't you forgetting something, ladyship?"

"Well, if I am, you asking me if I've forgotten it isn't exactly helpful."

"You're the Dragonborn," he said simply. She looked at him, exasperated for a few moments before she realised what he meant. She groaned at how obvious it was.

Her companions took their places once more, and she readied her Voice.

" **WULD NAH KEST** ," and she was through, the gates opening behind her to allow her companions free entry.

The path ahead was eerie, everything coated with a thin layer of dust that gave off an otherworldly glow in the torchlight. The air was thick with the stench of burning oil and seemed to leave a greasy residue on their clothes. Something felt wrong, but Aellana couldn't place it. She made to move forward, but Bishop grabbed her arm, fingers digging painfully into her flesh. She pulled away, but one look at his face made her realise he'd likely not noticed he'd hurt her. He held up a hand to stop them all, bending to pick up a large rock from the path in another.

Bishop tested the weight of the rock, shifting it from one hand to the other until he seemed satisfied that it would suit his purposes. Bringing his arm back, he threw it as far onto the path as he could, making them all leap back in horror. Where the rock had landed, the whole track had burst into flames, jets of fire and belching black smoke spearing high into the air. It illuminated the path in full, where suddenly black shadows appeared in the vague shapes of people who had fallen here. As the heat rose from the ground, they suddenly realised what the ash and residue were. They were surrounded by the dead, breathing them in, collecting them on their clothes. As the realisation dawned, Frea ran off to the side, retching violently against the wall, trying to ignore the oily feeling on her skin, and the fingerprints she left in the ashen remains that coated every surface.

"Stay off the path," Bishop said, somewhat redundantly. "Stick to the rocks along the outer walls."

They moved slowly then, in single file, no one speaking as they circumvented the trapped floor. Aellana nearly lost her footing, saved from burning alive at the last minute by Bishop's quick reflexes as she came across the body of a man, his face decaying in the rictus of a scream. His lower was body burned off at the waist, his death slow, and painful.

It felt like forever before they reached their destination. Pushing through a doorway, almost entirely obscured by spider webs, they came out into the burial chamber. The room was flooded, a central walkway leading across the water to where the sarcophagus stood on the opposite side. As they stepped inside, four statues, as large as houses rose from the water, almost like a guard of honour to their fallen leader.

A clawed hand rose from the sarcophagus, but instead of the horn, it clutched a scrap of paper in its fingers. Aellana opened it.

"Fuck!" She yelled, and Thaiden was quickly behind her, reading over her shoulder.

"Fuck," he echoed, as Aellana passed the note around for her companions to see.

The Horn was gone. Someone had been here just moments before them, which explained the bodies they'd found on the way in. How the stranger had gotten past the gate and traps, they had no idea, but none of that mattered. They'd come all this way for nothing.

"Meet me at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood?" Bishop's face was a mask of consternation as he read the note aloud. "You mean we came all this way when we could quite literally just sat in the Inn for the last week and waited for the Horn to come to us?"

Aellana started laughing then. She couldn't stop, for fear she'd cry if she did.

The note had been signed 'your friend.' With friends like these, who needed enemies?


	22. Spies and Lovers

          "I'd like to rent your attic room please," Aellana said to the proprietor of the Sleeping Giant Inn, rolling her eyes. The note they'd found in Ustengrav had instructed her to do so (without the eye roll, but she was improvising). The cloak and dagger secrecy seemed entirely unnecessary, given that anyone in the Inn could see there was no attic, let alone a room to rent there.

"Follow me," the woman said secretively, and the four of them filed into a tiny room to the right of the bar. Aellana couldn't think of a single way it could have been more obvious that they were doing something clandestine if they'd all tried.

After the group had bundled into the tiny space, avoiding rogue limbs and weapons lest one of them lose an eye, the woman squeezed past, pushing back as she tugged on a heavy wardrobe door. It swung out, or attempted to, as they all tried to jostle out of the way in the already cramped space. The woman beckoned them to follow down a staircase that had been revealed, and Bishop waggled his eyebrows at Aellana in a way that made her laugh at how ridiculous their predicament was.

The room below was spacious, yet sparsely decorated. It was warmly lit and dominated by a massive wooden table scored by years of use. It looked like a war room. A room used to make plans and hatch plots.

"So you're the Dragonborn I've heard so much about." The woman gave Frea and appraising look, and Thaiden laughed out loud, earning an angry glare from her. Aellana stayed silent; she was enjoying this too much. 

She had to admit, Frea would have made a much more imposing Dragonborn. With her golden hair framing her face like a halo, and her muscular, impressive physique, she would have been a warrior worth following.  Frea just looked uncomfortable and shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

"I....I'm not," she stammered out, and Aellana took pity on her.

"I'm the Dragonborn," she said simply, trying to look larger, more imposing under the taller Nord's appraising gaze.

"Delphine," the other woman said, extending her hand which Aellana took after only a moment's hesitation.

"Well Delphine, I think you have something I want."

"Surprised? I'm getting pretty good at the harmless Innkeeper act."

"What's with all the cloak and dagger?"

"You can never be too careful. Thalmor spies could be anywhere."

"Right. Good thing we were so subtle then." Bishop's voice dripped with sarcasm, and it took all Aellana's strength to keep a straight face. From their pinched mouths and twitching eyes, she could tell that Frea and Thaiden were having the same troubles.

"I needed to be sure this wasn't a Thalmor trap."

"And you thought the best way to do that would be to single-handedly infiltrate a corpse and trap-infested burial site, steal something you knew I was coming for, and then leave me a note to come and meet you here? You didn't think to maybe just send a note to my house? Which is literally a short walk away?"

"I had to be sure you were the Dragonborn." The irony of the fact that Delphine had assumed that Frea was the Dragonborn was certainly not lost on Aellana. "Please," Delphine continued, "I am not your enemy. Take the horn." She gestured to a nondescript hunting horn that sat on a sideboard on the other side of the room. Thaiden moved to take it, securing it in his pack. "I'm trying to help you. Please, just hear me out."

"Alright," Aellana nodded. "But make it quick."

"I'm part of a group that's been waiting for a Dragonborn for a long time. I'm not even sure I'm convinced you are the Dragonborn. First, I need to make sure I can trust you."

"And why on earth should we trust you?" Aellana scowled at the woman, her patience wearing thin.

"If you don't trust me, you were a fool to walk in here, to begin with."

"How could I trust you? I didn't know who you were. I got a note. You had something I needed. I now have that something, so there is quite literally no reason for us to still be here." She turned to her companions, motioning for the door. "We're leaving."

"Wait!"

Aellana paused in the doorway and raised her eyebrow. "As I said, make it quick."

"The group I belong to, we remember what most don't. That Dragonborn, you I suppose, are the ultimate dragon slayers. You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul."

"You think that's news?" Bishop barked with mirth.

"So you can do it?" Delphine looked at Aellana with barely concealed reverence. "You can devour a dragon's soul?"

"Trust me; it's not all it's cracked up to be. But yes. I absorb power from dragons after they die."

"I knew it! When the Greybeards sent someone after the horn, I knew we had a new Dragonborn. When you showed up here, I knew you'd got my note and weren't just some Thalmor plant."

"Why do you keep going on about the Thalmor?" What a group of elven supremacists had to do with her being the Dragonborn, Aellana simply couldn't fathom.

"I think they might have something to do with the dragons returning."

"The Thalmor?" It was Thaiden's turn to look incredulous. "Really?" He glanced at Aellana with a look in his eyes that seemed to say, this _woman's crazy_!

"The dragons aren't just coming back," Delphine continued, unperturbed. "They're coming back to life! They were killed off centuries ago, but now something is bringing them back from the dead. I've visited their burial mounds. They're all empty! If you are Dragonborn, then I need you to help me find out what and help me stop it. I've figured out where the next one will rise. You're going to come with me and kill it. If you do, then I'll know you're really Dragonborn. Then I'll tell you everything."

"How on earth did you figure out where the next one will rise?"

"You should know. You got the map for me that made it possible to figure out." Aellana just looked at her confused. "The Dragonstone, for Farengar? Remember?"

And she did. The first time she and Thaiden had ever ventured out together. Before she even knew she was the Dragonborn.

"You were there," she said with dawning realisation. "In Dragonsreach, when I gave it to him."

"So you were paying attention." Delphine gave her a knowing smile. "I arranged for Farengar to retrieve the Dragonstone for me. I work behind the scenes, make things happen. After all, here you are."

"You still could have just asked, and you'd have the same result," Aellana countered.

"No matter." Delphine waved a hand dismissively, making Aellana's blood boil. "The Dragonstone is a map of ancient dragon burial sites. I've gone to the ones that are empty and marked them on this map." She grabbed a map from a shelf behind her, spreading it out on the table, beckoning them all forward. It was marked with a series of lines and crosses, and Delphine pointed to a few of them. "See here, and here? The pattern is pretty clear. It's spreading from the South East, starting in the Jeralls near Riften. The next to rise should be the one near Kynesgrove if the pattern holds."

"Do you have someone special in your life, Delphine? A partner?"

The Innkeeper looked confused at the question. "Yes, why?"

"If we're going to kill a dragon, you might want to bring them along."

 

* * *

 

Bishop, Thaiden, and Frea had agreed to take the horn back to the Greybeards. Dragon slaying was old hat, and Aellana had agreed readily.  She, Bishop, and Dragon souls did not mix, and she certainly didn't want to have to deal with those old men again. 

Delphine and a sullen-faced Bosmer woman had accompanied her instead. The Bosmer was Delphine's partner she supposed, although she didn't seem to say much except to grunt acknowledgement now and then. Delphine hadn't bothered to introduce her, and truth be told, Aellana didn't much care to get to know either of them. She just wanted to kill this dragon and get back to her friends.

Kynesgrove was a small village on the outskirts of Windhelm. They'd booked passage and made the journey within a matter of days. The locals had no idea of the danger that was soon to be upon them. She'd become accustomed to the sound of dragons wings and their distant roars. She'd known for hours that a dragon was nearby, and stopped Delphine and her companion to point out a dim, grey shape flitting above the trees just beyond the village.

"Dragon. Do you see?"

Delphine nodded, and they moved through the settlement as quickly and as quietly as possible. Sneaking through the undergrowth, they approached the circling dragon. The air crackled with magic and power, more potent than anything Aellana had ever experienced. With a start she realised that the dragon spoke words in an ancient language that she couldn't understand, incanting as it flew around and around the burial mound far below it. The words travelled on the dragon's roar, and formulated themselves in her mind, making shapes that she could process, but not yet understand.

With a shudder of the earth that made Delphine clamp a hand to her mouth, stifling a scream, a second dragon burst from the burial mound to join the other.

_"Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse!"_

_"Slen Tiid Vo!"_

_"Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?"_

_"Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir."_

The pair were conversing, their graceful language strangely beautiful. It was harsh and guttural, but at the same time deep and rich and without realising it, Aellana had moved forward to hear them better.

_"Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi."_

With a start, Aellana realised that the larger of the two dragons had stopped circling and was staring right at her. She had the feeling it was talking to her, but she couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. But what she was sorry for, she didn't know.

 _"You do not even know our tongue, do you?"_  The words came into her mind, infused with fury and hate.  _"Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah."_

The dragon turned away from her to address the smaller.

 _"Sahloknir, krii daar joorre."_ And with that it turned and flew away, swooping low over the town of Kynesgrove before disappearing into the distance.

That left only one dragon to contend with. A dragon who was already advancing on her, faster than a recently dead dragon had any right to.

 _"I am Sahloknir,"_  the dragon cried.  _"Hear my voice and despair!"_

Delphine and her companion burst from their cover, peppering the creature with arrows. His hide was strong, and they did very little damage. The Bosmer woman ran into the fray like one possessed, ducking and weaving around Delphine, deflecting blows and landing one or two of her own. Aellana let the two women distract the dragon while she channelled as much power as she could muster. She used her Voice to shout, stunning the dragon while simultaneously releasing streams and streams of lightning from her hands, making the air crackle and hum with static.

Sahloknir slumped, and Aellana moved in for the killing blow, drawing her sword and landing it right between the eyes, letting the soul of the dragon flow into her, filling her with power. This time her body buzzed pleasantly, bathing her in a warm afterglow. She smiled to herself. Ever since Miraak, she'd found she had more control, wondering idly if this also meant that others around her wouldn't be effected quite so much.

She turned to Delphine, who was clutching her companion's hand fiercely.  _I guess that answers that question_ , Aellana thought to herself.

"You did it!" The awe in Delphine's face was palpable. "You really are the Dragonborn."

"Yes. Now, I think you owe me some answers."

 

* * *

 

Aellana had sent Delphine and her companion back to Kynesgrove while she examined the dragon's burial mound. Those two had needed a moment or two alone, but they were now all comfortably installed in the Braidwood Inn.

"Go ahead," said Delphine. "Ask me whatever you want to know."

Delphine, it turned out, was one of the last members of an ancient organisation of dragon killers called The Blades. They had served the Dragonborn hundreds of years ago, and since then, had been waiting for one to return.

"I don't want to be your chosen one." Aellana didn't want followers, and said so, quite vocally. "I'll agree to help you, but I'm not some godlike figure to give your lives purpose."

"Fair enough. All we ask for is your help."

"So what's our next move?"

"The Thalmor are still the best lead we've got. Even if they're not involved, they might know who is."

"How do we do we find out?"

"We need to get into their embassy. But it's almost impenetrable."

"Why do I feel you already have a plan?"

"Nothing concrete yet. I'll need some time to put everything in place. I need to go back to Riverwood. Meet me there in a week."

 

* * *

 

To say that Aellana was blissfully enjoying her time off was an understatement. She'd settled into Breezehome, installing an easel on her balcony and spent her days painting the passers-by. She'd had an enchanting table placed in the basement, and she practised her craft, not wanting her skills to stagnate.

"There's a Ranger at the door to see you."

Aellana nearly jumped out of her skin. It was Lydia, her housecarl. The woman certainly knew how to sneak, and always seemed to be wherever she was least wanted. But Aellana was still grateful. She made sure her house was secure and knew that her belongings were in capable hands.  She wiped the paint from her fingers, placing the brushes down next to the easel, and pushed her hair back from her face as she descended the stairs.

Bishop was in the front room, standing by the hearth. Karnwyr had made himself comfortable by the fire, and the Ranger leaned casually against the fire surround, looking up as Aellana entered the room. He smiled with genuine warmth, and she returned it.

"Listen," he began. "There are a few more days before we have to meet Delphine and Frea and Thaiden are still holed up with the Companions. How about you and I take a little trip? How do you feel about surprises?"

Aellana gave Bishop an appraising look. A surprise getaway wasn't precisely his regular modus operandi, but she decided to roll with it.

"That depends. What did you have in mind?"

"Now, now, ladyship. If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise! I want to take you somewhere, just trust me."

"Ok, sure. Why not?"

"Well, follow me then, ladyship. We want to get there while it's light. No detours." He opened the door but turned to her with a cheeky grin and a wink just as he crossed the threshold. "I guess you'll be staring at my ass for once."

 

* * *

 

"Nearly there!"

Aellana's pulse quickened with dread as they approached their destination. Of all the places, why did it have to be here?

"Bishop," she grabbed his arm to stop him before he went any further. "Why did you bring me here."

"I told you," he said lightly. "It's a surprise." But one look at her face told him that wasn't enough. "What is it, princess? What's wrong?"

"When I ran away from my mother, I stumbled across this place. There was a man, a merchant he said, and I stupidly stopped to help him. It turned out to be a trap. The bandits, they knew who I was. They threatened to rape me and turn me over to Jurgarinson."

"Lana, I...."

"I killed them." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "I killed all of them. I'd never killed anyone before."

"Shit." Bishop beat his palm against his forehead, cursing under his breath. "This isn't exactly how I saw this going. Please, Lana." She looked up at her nickname, to find him looking into her eyes. For the first time she saw genuine kindness in his whiskey coloured eyes, and it calmed her nerves, bringing a smile to her lips. "Please, just trust me a little while longer. It'll be worth it. I promise. Or at least I hope."

She nodded at him, and he led her forward toward a ruined tower that rose majestically on the banks of a winding river, the lush, verdant forest lending a perfect background for the crumbling edifice. Bishop led her up a stone staircase that wound through the ruined interior until they emerged on a balcony that looked out over what felt like the entirety of Skyrim.

"It's breathtaking," Aellana whispered, awestruck. The land stretched out below, as far as the eye could see. Swathes of green surrounded the tower, the river winding into the distance like a glittering jewel. The sun was warm, and she turned her face upward, letting it bathe her in its light. The air smelled clean and fresh, like the earth after a storm and when she turned to Bishop, he was smiling at her.

"Well, here we are. It's no Throat of the World, but it's mine. Well, partly mine. A long time ago. It's the first place in Skyrim that really felt like home."

"It's beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here."

"It's where I found Karnwyr as a cub." He reached down to ruffle the wolf's fur, who snuffled in pleasure and slunk off to lie down in a sun-spot with a satisfied sigh. "This place used to be a bandit stronghold. They were breeding wolves for fighting. I rescued him when I killed the bandits, and we made it home for a while. I haven't been here for...well, it always feels longer than it actually is." He took Aellana's hand, and she looked up at him in surprise. "I've never brought anyone here before."

"This place must mean a lot to you."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does. I don't put down roots. This place is the closest I've ever got. The only place that ties me to anywhere." His voice trailed off, but Aellana stayed silent, not wanting to spook the Ranger out of whatever was happening. "Anyway," he said, coming out of his thoughts, "I made the first good decision of my life here. " He looked at Karnwyr who just sighed contentedly, flicking his eyes up toward the Ranger in adoration. "I wanted to make you part of it."

She didn't know what to say or how to respond. This was so uncharacteristic of the Ranger that she just looked at him in confusion for a few moments before replying. "I guess this place has meaning for both of us now, just in different ways. It put us both on the path to who we are today."

"That's true. But it's more than that." Bishop paused, a desperate look on his face, almost willing Aellana to understand. "I...I'm still not being clear, am I?" She just looked at him in confusion, no idea what he wanted her to say. "Trust doesn't come easy for me. To me, this is the most important place in Skyrim, and you're here because I wanted you to know that."

Realisation was dawning, and Aellana felt her heart flutter,  her knees trembling at where this conversation was leading. "After everything I've kept from you," she whispered, "you still trust me?"

"Yes, sweetness, I do." He took a step toward her, bringing their bodies so close that she could feel the heat of his skin through his armour. He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her head up so he could gaze directly into her eyes. His voice was low and soft as he spoke. "So that only leaves one question, are you willing to do the same?"

"Bish, I've trusted you completely from the day I told you who I was." Her voice trembled as his thumb moved lightly over her jaw, stroking her cheek. " You hold my life in your hands. We've had our ups and downs, but you've never given me a reason not to trust you.

"Then let me give you one more reason."

He bent down and pressed his mouth to hers, warm and inviting. His scent enveloped her, a mix of sandalwood, leather, and cinnamon, and she leaned in to drink him in. He pressed her close, their bodies touching, desperate to be just that little bit closer. His hand tangled in her hair, and she flung her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tighter, drowning in his lips and moaning as his tongue ghosted along hers, tasting her, savouring her.

When he pulled back, she felt his loss like a phantom limb. His nearness had felt so right.

"You kissed me," she said, flushed and breathless.

"I kissed you." He smiled down at her, letting his gaze linger on her lips.

"No Dragon?"

"No Dragon. Just because I wanted to."

That was her undoing. Aellana flung herself into his arms, pulling his face toward her own. She groaned against him, her kisses rough and desperate, filled with passionate fire. Bishop's strong arms encircled her, crushing her to him. She gently bit his lower lip. He tasted like honeyed mead, and she found herself drowning in the moment, losing herself in the sensation of his presence.

"If I'd know you'd react like this I'd have done it sooner!" His eyes twinkled with mirth as he pulled away. Aellana reached up to touch his face, but he withdrew, breaking the spell. "Yeah, so I'm not exactly a romance kinda guy," he said sheepishly, shuffling from one foot to the other.

Aellana looked around playfully. "For a non-romance kinda guy, this was pretty damn romantic."

Bishop looked awkward and stammered nervously as he replied. "Well, don't get used to it, ladyship."

The old Bishop was back. Hard and wild; an animal that couldn't be caged. With a sigh, Aellana turned, heading back fro the stairs.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

"Lana," Bishop hovered indecisively by the door. "I don't know what this means yet, but I just wanted to make you part of this. I guess just to let you know that you're more than just the Dragonborn. You're a woman. A beautiful woman. And regardless of all the dragons we may kill, you're important to me."

And for Aellana, that was enough.


	23. The Winking Skeever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Smut incoming. 
> 
> Now that Aellana and Bishop have finally kissed, we all knew where this was heading... ;) Enjoy!

Aellana had flatly refused to play Delphine's games when she and Bishop had returned to Riverwood. A courier had intercepted them on their return from Nilheim with a note instructing them to 'ask for the weekend special.' They'd sent the poor man back with a frankly worded message that strongly implied that she owned an Inn, and it was more obvious to leave the tavern floor than just to sit down and join them for a drink. It was a rather unhappy and disgruntled Delphine who had finally joined them at the long table of a completely empty Inn when they'd arrived.

"I've figured out how to get you into the Thalmor Embassy," she said, with no preamble.

"Nice to see you too Delphine," Bishop countered sarcastically, earning him a withering look from the Innkeeper.

"Wait, us? Why can't you go yourself?" Thaiden didn't look particularly pleased with the idea of Aellana going into the embassy at all. Her family were well known in the upper echelons of Skyrim society. It wasn't exactly the best way for her to keep a low profile.

"They know who I am. I'd be too likely to draw the wrong kind of attention," replied Delphine. "But you're an unknown."

"Hardly. My family have worked on commissions for the embassy in the past."

"All the more reason for it to be you. The Evensnow's wouldn't be out of place at an embassy gathering." Aellana looked at the other woman in surprise, which made Delphine laugh. "Yes, I know who you are Aellana Evensnow. I make it my business to know everything about my associates."

"Right," Aellana cleared her throat nervously. "I guess that makes sense. So I assume we'll be attending an embassy party then?"

"Not 'we', Aellana. You."

"Not a chance," Bishop growled. "If she goes, I go."

"She has to go alone. Someone like you," Delphine gave Bishop an appraising look, "would draw the wrong kind attention."

"I don't give a rat's arse what kind of attention it draws. She's not your plaything."

"It's fine Bishop. Let's at least hear her plan. I haven't said yes yet, after all."

"Thank you," Delphine nodded and continued. "Elenwen often hosts parties at the Thalmor Embassy so that the rich, powerful, and connected of Skyrim can cozy up to them. I've secured an invitation for you, banking on your family name. We already have an agent inside who can allow you entrance to the embassy itself. From there, all you have to do is find the files that prove they're behind the dragon attacks."

"Why can't your contact find the files themselves?" Frea had a look of concentration on her face as if playing through the likely scenarios in her head. It was a legitimate question, and the group turned as one to Delphine, awaiting her answer.

"You'll understand when you see him. He's not exactly in a position that allows him access, and truth be told, he's not the kind of person who is equipped for such a high stakes mission."

"Then why on earth should I trust him?"

"He's a Wood Elf named Malborn. He has lots of reasons to hate the Thalmor, but his race doesn't exactly put him in a position of power."

They couldn't argue with that. The Thalmor were widely known to consider the Bosmer racially inferior. There were rumours of purges. Whole families and communities wiped out in an instance on a whim. Most people turned a blind eye to those kinds of things, but knowing the Thalmor, Aellana didn't find it difficult to believe the truth in the rumours.

"Alright. I'll go." Bishop looked at her aghast, but it wasn't his decision to make. "What next?"

"He has lodging at The Winking Skeever in Solitude. I'll send word you're coming."

 

* * *

 

Despite Delphine's insistence that Aellana go into the embassy alone, the four friends had decided to travel together anyway. If there were a way she could get her companions safely into the building after she'd infiltrated it, she'd do it. The party alone was one thing, taking on an entire embassy of highly trained Thalmor soldiers and mages was something else entirely.

The Winking Skeever was warm and bustling. The smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meat floated about them, as the sounds of intoxicated laughter and music lambasted their ears. Unlike the other taverns in Skyrim, the Skeever wasn't built like a traditional mead hall. Instead, it had tables in every nook and cranny, walls separating them in places to create private areas. Thaiden found them a small table in back, shielded from most of the sounds while Bishop went to get them ale.

Aellana's hair was snow white again. Frea had helped her strip the last of the colour. If she were going into the Thalmor Embassy as an Evensnow, she had to look the part. She was now well and truly out in the open, and truthfully, she found it liberating. Bishop had stared at her in shock when he'd first seen it. He couldn't help but remember the night at the hot springs, his cheeks growing warm with the memory.

"Excuse me. Are you Miss Evensnow?" A young Bosmer interrupted her thoughts.

"I am. I assume you're Malborn?"

He gave her an appraising look. "You're what she picked? I certainly hope Delphine knows what she's doing." Aellana bristled at his scrutiny. She wasn't imposing, and she now regretted changing out of her leather armour. Instead of the battle-worn leathers she usually wore she had instead donned a pair of soft, calfskin breeches, comfortable, yet elegant heeled boots, had styled her hair for the first time in months, letting it flow freely around her face, and had opted for a light, cotton shirt that showed off her curves.

"Watch your tongue, whelp." The Bosmer started in surprise at the voice behind him. Bishop had returned with the ale and had appeared silently.

"Sorry," Malborn stammered, turning back to Aellana with an apologetic shrug.

"It doesn't matter. Do you have the invitation?"

"Yes," he was suddenly business-like. "I've got it here." He handed her a beautifully embellished card, decorated in rich gold leaf. The calligraphy was perfect, and with surprise, Aellana recognised the hand. It was her mother, Sigrund's signature style. It shouldn't have surprised her, after all, the Evensnows were the exact family that would be commissioned for this kind of work, but seeing it there, out in the open made Aellana nervous, and she couldn't quite place why. But Malborn was unaware of any of this, and continued, oblivious to her turmoil. "There will be guards posted at the entrance checking invitations. Without one, your companions won't be given entry. You'll also be checked over for weapons or any other contraband."

"You mean I'll be going in unarmed?"

"Not exactly. I can smuggle in some essentials as we stock the pantry for the party. Any armour or weapons you need, I'll be sure to put in a safe place for your collection. I've organised rooms for you all at the Inn tonight," he said, handing a key to Thaiden and Frea (Delphine obviously  _was_ informed), and separate keys to Bishop and Aellana. "Dress for the party tomorrow," he said by way of parting, turning to Aellana directly. "Leave what equipment you want me to take at the end of your bed, and I'll see you on the other side." He turned quickly and left.

Thaiden was the first to speak. "Lana, I don't like you going in there alone."

"I don't either, but I don't know what choice we have."

"Surely there will be another way in, once you're actually inside the embassy?" Frea was once again the voice of reason.

"There is no way you're going in there without backup." To everyone's surprise, Bishop took Aellana's hand, gripping it tightly. Thaiden raised an eyebrow in her direction, and she blushed and shrugged. "I'll find a way in. If anyone hurts you, they'll have to answer to me."

The table was silent for a few moments, Bishop's sudden protectiveness coming as a complete shock to all of them.

"We might...go," Thaiden said awkwardly, turning to Frea. "Should we go?"

Frea nodded quickly, and the two took their untouched drinks and disappeared upstairs, leaving Bishop and Aellana alone. They sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say.

"I don't like the idea of you going into that embassy alone," Bishop's voice was barely above a whisper.

"You've made that pretty clear, Bish. But I have duties. If the Thalmor are the reason the dragons are returning, I have a responsibility to find out."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

There was something about the way he said it. The mixture of fear, anger, and determination that made Aellana melt. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. Bishop grunted in surprise but returned it with increased fervour. He pulled her onto his lap, and she straddled him on the bench, leaning back to look deep into his honey coloured eyes.

Bishop looked almost confused as he stared at her as if she was some mystery for him to unravel. She traced the outline of his face with her fingers, trying to preserve the memory of him at this moment. Her hands trailed downward, her thumb lingering to stroke the outline of his high cheekbones. His breathing was shallow, and she realised she was holding her own, both of them unwilling to break the spell of this moment. She moved toward his mouth, tracing his full, expressive lips with her thumb, remembering all too well the feeling of them pressed against hers. His hand moved up to grab her wrist, and he planted a kiss on her palm, never breaking eye contact.

He pressed her fingertips to his lips, experimentally at first, looking at her to gauge her reaction. He slowly drew her index and middle fingers into his mouth, gently sucking on the tips. When she didn't pull away, he sucked them in deeper, pulsing his mouth and tongue in a smooth rhythm, staring into her eyes with a desire that was nearly her undoing. Aellana groaned loudly, her eyelids fluttering, which drove the Ranger over the edge.

His mouth claimed hers, desperate and hungry, and Aellana returned it with force. His lips were hot as they pressed against hers, his tongue exploring her mouth as if to taste and experience every part of their passion. She clutched at his shoulders, moaning against him as he ripped at the buttons of her shirt, sending them skittering across the tavern floor with little pings that caused more than a few heads to turn in their direction. Before she knew it, her shirt was pushed away from her shoulders, exposing the swell of her breasts beneath her breastband. Bishop's hand moved up to cup her, surprisingly gently, pushing her against him, massaging rhythmically. She felt him harden beneath her, the electricity between them palpable.

"This desire between us. It's driving me crazy," he gasped out between kisses. "I need you. I need you in my bed. You and me, alone."

Aellana felt it too. Had felt it since that first day she'd caught him watching her with Thaiden on the Seven Thousand Steps. There was something about the Ranger that had drawn her in, and it felt good to finally give in to it.

"Take me, Bishop. I'm yours."

He swept her up, kissing her deeply as he rose. Her legs locked around his waist as he carried her up the stairs, not caring who saw them. He fumbled with the keys from Malborn for a moment, before finding the right door, pushing it open with Aellana's back as they tumbled back into the room, letting it slam behind them.

Within moments they were on the bed, a tangle of limbs as they pressed themselves together. Aellana's shirt was already a useless pile of cloth on the floor as she reached for the buckles that still held Bishop's travelling gear in place. Her fingers fumbled, and she cried out in frustration, making the Ranger laugh as he quickly undid them with practised skill. He shrugged his shirt off, revealing his perfectly muscled torso, and Aellana sat up, letting her hands run across his skin in wonderment. How long had she wanted to touch him this way? She ran her hands along his myriad scars, feeling his muscles ripple and tremble beneath her hands and he reached to divest her of her breastband.

Bishop gasped as her breasts sprang free from their confines, pulling her forward to sit in his lap as he kissed her throat and down toward her swell, each caressing the other's skin, touching every inch as if to memorise each other. Aellana threw her head back and moaned as Bishop gently lapped at her nipples. They hardened and tightened against his ministrations, becoming more and more sensitive as he rolled them between his lips, lightly grazing them with his tongue.

She reached between them, feeling for his length which strained against the fabric of his breeches. She stroked him gently at first, then with more urgency as she unbuckled his belt. He groaned, an animalistic sound as he sprang free, flipping her onto her back as he pulled off her remaining clothes, leaving her naked on the bed.

"Don't move," he commanded as he stood back from the bed. "I want to look at you."

He took his time removing the last of his clothes, stroking his substantial length as he looked at her. He stood proud and erect, and Aellana found herself trembling in anticipation. When he finally stood before her, naked, she sat up, slowly spreading her legs, inviting him in. He pulled her forward to the edge, holding her hips, pausing at her threshold. He looked like an animal, ready to pounce and devour its prey.

"I want you Bishop," Aellana breathed.

It was all the invitation he needed, and with a single, fluid motion he entered her. They cried out in unison as he pushed himself deep inside her. Their eyes met, and it was as if the world stopped at that moment. He thrust again with slow, deliberate strokes that set every part of her body trembling. She sat up a little to place her hands on his hips, to guide herself toward him and match his rhythm. He leaned down to kiss her, deeply and passionately, and with each new penetration, they groaned against each other. They coupled through instinct, letting their animal nature guide them, but there was nothing hurried or desperate about their lovemaking now. Instead, they focused on feeling, allowing every breath, every glance, every stroke to guide their pleasure.

Bishop lifted her, never breaking away and sat on the end of the bed, letting Aellana balance herself on his shaft, leaning back to take him deeper. It was unlike any sensation she had ever experienced, and she cried Bishop's name as he held her up, moving her up and down atop him. She tangled her hands in his hair to steady herself as he increased his rhythm, feeling her climax building.

"Come for me, Lana," he gasped as his pace quickened and his thrusts became shallower.

She clenched herself around him, and he groaned with an 'oh' of surprise as he felt his climax near at the increased pressure. She felt his grip falter as he tried to hold back, and with a single movement, she pushed him onto his back, riding him hard as they both crested on a wave of orgasm. Bishop's hands fell away from her and clutched at the bed sheets as he came, calling her name loudly as she tilted her head back above him, screaming out her own climax as she felt him spill himself inside her. Her vision sparked and the room went silent as her head filled with nothing but the sensation of him.

Aellana tumbled off Bishop and onto the beside him. They were both panting and trembling. She turned toward him as he raised himself on one elbow, letting his hand gently move down her body, exploring it, taking her in and making her tremble with each subtle stroke of his fingers. This Ranger was so unlike the rough, gruff man she'd come to know, and part of her was terrified this would all be just a dream. He leaned down and kissed her, gently this time, his lips surprisingly soft as she leaned into his kiss.

"Stay with me tonight?" he whispered, and she nodded. There was nowhere she would rather be.


	24. A Forced Reunion

        It was the early hours of the morning when Aellana snuck into her own room. She'd spent the night curled up in Bishop's arms as he breathed softly behind her, creeping out with the early dawn so as not to wake him. Last night had been amazing, but she didn't know what it meant yet and hadn't wanted to jinx it by having him wake up with her in his bed regretting it. She could deal with almost anything, but seeing him regret what had happened between them was not one of them.

Someone had brought her things up to her room, and she extracted her armour and sword, placing them neatly at the end of the bed. She considered briefly whether she should ruffle the blankets to make it look like they had been slept in, but she doubted that Malborn would care either way. Her belongings were sparse. They had opted to travel light. Solitude was a much more significant city than Riverwood or even Whiterun, and Aellana had left home with nothing that even resembled finery, except for the torn and soiled dress she'd worn the night she'd escaped that still lay crumpled in the bottom of the bag. If she were to be allowed into the embassy tonight, she'd need to find something to wear. She doubted her travelling clothes would make the grade.

When she finally made her way downstairs, Bishop, Thaiden, and Frea were already there, the table laid with freshly baked bread, cheese, and fruits. Bishop gave her an unreadable look as she joined them.

"Frea and I scoped out the embassy last night," Thaiden said, his mouth full. "It's walled all around. There's a service entrance, but it'll be in constant use while the party is going on. There's no way we can sneak in."

"It's a start though. At least we know the front door isn't the only way in and out of the compound," Frea began. "We can wait in the trees outside the embassy. The area is heavily wooded, and the patrols only scour the embassy itself. They'll never even know we're there."

"I can't guarantee I can get you in, and I can't ask you to wait out in the dark on a whim." Aellana didn't want her friends putting themselves in danger needlessly.

"We'll be there." Bishop's tone brokered no argument, and Thaiden and Frea just nodded in agreement. That seemed to settle the matter.

"We are all forgetting the most important thing though." They all turned to Aellana quizzically. "I don't have a thing to wear!"

For a moment, silence reigned, then suddenly, they all erupted into laughter. It seemed somehow fitting that the biggest worry for yet another potentially dangerous encounter should be fashion.

"Don't worry, ladyship," Bishop gave her a wide grin and a wink. "I know just the place."

 

* * *

 

"Where were you?" Bishop's voice was low and gravelly spinning her toward him as they exited the tavern. "I woke up, and you were gone."

"I had to prepare for tonight. I didn't want to wake you." It hadn't even occurred to Aellana how he might feel to find her gone. She cursed her stupidity and hoped that he hadn't misread her absence for regret. She moved toward him, but he pulled away. Not unkindly, but at the same time dismissive of her affections. She felt a pang of equal parts shame, hurt, and anger, and walked roughly away from the Ranger, not bothering to look where she was going.

"Hey!"

Aellana's shoulder collided roughly with a man standing in the path ahead, his voice breaking through her anger.

"I'm so sorry. I should have been watching where I was going." She looked up to apologise to the man and was greeted with a surprisingly warm smile that stopped her dead in her tracks.

The man before her was uncommonly handsome. He was tall, well-built, with a face that seemed to radiate kindness when he smiled. His eyes were chocolate brown and crinkled in the corners, framed by chestnut hair that shimmered when the sun struck it, just so. His dark brows should have made him look severe, but instead, they lent him a noble air, accentuated even further by his square jaw and full lips.

"Don't mention it." He looked Aellana up and down for a moment before realisation dawned. "Actually, I think this might have been a fortuitous meeting. You're just the woman I'm looking for!"

"Me?" Aellana's heart hammered under his penetrating gaze. She was aware of Bishop sulking broodily at the entrance to the Inn, but there was something about this man that was making her slightly weak-kneed.

"Yes. You are the Dragonborn are you not?"

Aellana cursed silently. It was always about the bloody  _Dragonborn_. First she was an Evensnow, and now she was the Dragonborn. Tonight she'd be both. Why couldn't she ever just be plain, old Aellana?

"Yes," she sighed. "I am the Dragonborn."

The man's voice was dark and rich when he replied, like melted chocolate or sweet, black coffee. He bowed deeply, taking her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles in a show of deference. Despite herself, Aellana giggled girlishly, and she felt, rather than saw Bishop stiffen behind her at the sound.

"I have been following your progress, my lady. My name is Casavir. Word of your deeds have spread, and I was hoping to offer you my aid. Ridding Skyrim of the dragon threat is a worthy cause."

A slow clap rang out from behind her as Bishop came striding over, a sneer curling his lip in distaste.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't everyone's favourite white knight."

He slung an arm around Aellana's shoulders which made her temper flare in the pit of her stomach. A few moments ago he'd rejected her, and now, just because another man had paid her interest he was suddenly laying claim? She shrugged his arm off, only briefly noticing the barely concealed hurt that flashed in his eyes. It wasn't something that anyone else would have seen, but she'd spent so many hours staring into those wolfish eyes that she could read his emotions in a way that others couldn't. She briefly thought about taking his hand to let him know it was alright, but instead, decided to stand her ground. She was not one of his tavern wenches, to be used and discarded when the mood took him.

"Bishop," Casavir said simply, seemingly unconcerned by his display of dominance.

"I was not expecting to run into you here, of all places. Or, you know, at all. Ever."

"I was merely offering the Dragonborn my assistance. I assume you have offered the same?"

Bishop puffed out his chest and replied, "She doesn't need you. Go find some other cause to fill the hole in your life. There are plenty of people who need your brand of Holy Righteousness. It's not needed here."

"She," Aellana interrupted, "can speak for herself thank you, Bishop."

"At least with me, she'd have a moral guide," Casavir replied, completely ignoring her. "With you by her side, I'm surprised her moral compass doesn't point into the flaming depths of Oblivion!"

"Excuse me?" Aellana's head whipped toward Casavir, but the two men were so involved in their quest to gain the upper hand that it was as if they'd forgotten she was there at all.

"You think far too highly of yourself, Paladin." Bishop spat the last word as if it were a curse, and Aellana could have sworn she saw Casavir flinch. "She's a woman who lives for adventure. With you around she'd get so bored, she'd beg to jump head first into those flames just to feel alive. And I'd be more than happy to oblige."

That was enough. Aellana positioned herself physically between the two men.

"Are you quite finished?" The pair had the decency to look ashamed before she turned to Bishop. "A word, please?"

She drew him away from Casavir demanding to know what on earth that had all been about.

"Do you see the way he looks at you? It's almost as if you're some sort of prize to be won."

"What, and you don't look at women like that yourself, Bishop? If I didn't know any better, I would have said you were jealous."

"Jealous?" Bishop laughed harshly, more of a bark than a sound with any real amusement. "If I were jealous, ladyship, he wouldn't be breathing."

"He seems nice. Gentlemanly. You could probably learn a thing or two."

"Don't let him fool you. He might come off as the pure-hearted Paladin, but he's just a man. He's spent his life lying to himself, denying his manhood. No matter what the cost. One day he'll break, and you're just the kind of woman who could make that happen. Part of me wishes for that. I want to see him break, to destroy the reputation he's spent so long building. Tear down the smoke and mirrors that are poor, pure-hearted Casavir. But I don't want you caught in the crossfire on the day that happens."

"So you wouldn't want him to join us then?"

"If he comes, I leave. Simple as that."

"So you'd give up everything we've been through for some petty feud?"

"It's far from petty," he rounded on her angrily. "Don't make light of things you don't understand."

"So help me understand, Bish," Aellana pleaded.

"For goodness sake woman, can you not just listen to me and accept my word for once?"

"Why should I? It's your word against his, and right now, he's not the one talking circles around me."

"Well if that's really how you feel, and how little you trust my word, then I can't think of a single reason why I should bother staying with you now."

Those words stung. He was right. She had no reason to trust Casavir, but every reason to believe in Bishop. But his attitude was making her crazy, and all she wanted to do was hurt him.

"If what's started between us isn't reason enough, then I'm sorry it ever happened!" He looked like she'd slapped him, and as soon as she said the words she wished she could take them back.

"Fine," he said curtly. "If you'd rather Casavir follow you around like a lost puppy, be my guest. He's all yours."

"Bishop, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." She grabbed his hand as he turned away from her, forcing him around to face her.

"Then you have a decision to make. I will never travel with that damn Paladin, so it's him or me."

"Why is everything so black and white with you?"

"Your choice ladyship. You aren't so full of charms that I can't stand to be without you." That stung, but Aellana swallowed her pride, admitting that she deserved it. "If you're sorry about all that happened between us, why do you want me around anyhow?"

"Because I want you, Bishop."

"Oh, you want me, do you?" he sneered.

Before he could protest, she drew him close, kissing him hard and deep.

"Yes, you idiot. I want you." He stiffened at first, but Aellana wouldn't give in, and slowly she felt him relax and abandon himself to the kiss, wrapping his arms around her as he returned it passionately.

"Well, if you put it like that," he said pulling away, "how can I resist?"

She smiled at him, but not before noticing him glance in Casavir's direction, giving the Paladin a cruel smirk. She decided to let it go. She'd not even seen the Paladin watching them until that moment.

Bishop hung back as she returned to Casavir.

"Sorry about Bishop. I can tell you two have a history together."

"I take it he objects to my joining you on your travels?"

"I think that's a given. I'm sorry Casavir, I wish it could be otherwise, but we've been through a lot together, and I have to respect Bishop's wishes."

"I understand, my lady. Your thoughtfulness does you credit." Damn this Paladin was good! He seemed to say the right thing at every turn. He was the exact kind of man her mother would have wished her to marry Aellana mused. Noble, handsome, and perfect.

"I know it isn't my place to say, my lady, but if you'll indulge me?"

"Please, speak freely."

"I worry about you with that Ranger. He is nothing but a savage wolf. He does what he pleases, no matter the consequences."

"Bishop is mostly bark, with no bite."

"He's much worse than that, my lady. I am a Paladin. I have sworn to protect the world from evil, protect the innocent, and bring justice. I protect people like yourself from people like him."

"I respect that there's bad blood between you, Casavir. But Bishop and I have been through too much. He's been by my side when others would have run. I owe him my life many times over."

"Very well," he inclined his head graciously. "I will say no more about it."

Aellana smiled at him, and he returned it warmly.

"Do you plan to stay in Solitude long?" she asked by way of conversation.

"Only for another few nights. I have been invited to be the guest of honour at the Grand Crystal Ball on Fredas Eve." He paused for a moment as if coming to some decision before he continued. "If I may ask, my lady. Would you care to accompany me?"

"Me?" Aellana squeaked. Casavir had caught her completely off guard.

"I am new to Skyrim and do not know the customs. I would be honoured if you would be my guide through the evening's festivities."

That sounded reasonable. Skyrim's social circles could be a minefield for the socially unaware, and there was something charmingly naive about the Paladin. If he went alone, they'd eat him alive, and if being an Evensnow had taught her anything, it was how to navigate tricky social situations.

"I would be honoured," she replied, almost laughing at the look of boyish glee that crossed his face.

"Wonderful! May I call on you at your lodgings on Fredas then?"

"We're staying at The Winking Skeever. You may."

Casavir bowed deeply, making his way toward where Bishop still stood behind them.

"Bishop, I must speak with you."

"Very well, Paladin."

Aellana decided to leave them to it, taking directions to the dress shop that Bishop had recommended, promising to meet him there in a few moments. Whatever bad blood was between the two men was their business.

 

* * *

 

Bishop and Casavir glared at each other, neither willing to break the silence first. But Bishop found his patience waning fast, so gave in.

"You want to speak to me about Aellana, don't you? You must have a real thing for her if you're going out of your way to speak to me."

"It has nothing to do with her!" Casavir said far too quickly, both of them realising how hollow his words were.

"Cut the bullshit, Casavir. If it's not about her, then we literally have nothing to discuss." Bishop turned to leave, but Casavir called after him.

"I don't trust you Bishop, and neither should she. We both know what happens to women who let you near them."

"Really?" Bishop turned back to the Paladin, an incredulous look on his face. "That's the best you can do? You think you're the only one who cares about her? The first man who's tried to warn me away? You think you're the first lust-filled man who wanted her to himself, thinking he could control her?"

"I'm not...I don't...," he stammered, but Bishop cut him off.

"Trust is a funny thing, Casavir. It has to be earned. I've earned it, and ironically, you've just said the same to me as I said to her. That  _you're_  the one who's not to be trusted."

"What on earth do you mean?" Casavir seemed genuinely shocked that Bishop deemed him untrustworthy.

"I'm not the one who destroys women, Cas. That's all on you."

"You dare say that to me after you..." Casavir collected himself. "No, Bishop. I won't let you place the responsibility for your actions at my feet."

"You're not half the saint you pretend to be. You've spent so long lying to yourself that you actually believe this image you've built. The Perfect Paladin. Pinnacle of Holy Righteousness. You're the worst kind of liar. You're a hypocrite. I don't know how you live with yourself."

"Hold your tongue, Bishop, before I rip it out." All the friendliness was gone from his eyes now. They sparkled with hatred and malice, and it took every ounce of Bishop's strength not to punch him in his smug face.

"There's not an ounce of honesty left in you," he said, feeling nothing but pity for the other man. "You've spent so long deluding yourself you don't even remember the truth anymore. Aellana deserves better."

"And by better you mean yourself, I suppose?"

"I might not be better, but I do care about her. I've done things I'm not proud of. I've killed, I've lied, but I've never lied to her. She's her own woman and makes her own decisions, and I promise you, she will see right through the mask you've put on to fool the world."

"We shall see," Casavir said, relishing the fact that he had one piece of information the Ranger did not. "She's agreed to accompany me to the Grand Crystal Ball. She will see what goodness and honour look like, Bishop. Do you honestly think she'll want you after that?"

Instead of reacting with shock, however, Bishop just laughed. "You may think that's what you'll show her, Paladin. You might begin the night as a saint, but I know the Dragonborn. By the end of the night, she'll have your heart wrapped so tightly, you'll be begging her to take you to her bed."

Casavir's face clouded over, his countenance black with righteous anger. "Do  _not_  talk about her that way."

"Or what?" Bishop guffawed, barely keeping his amusement in check. "Do you think she needs me to defend her honour? She's more than capable of doing that herself. She won't do a thing she doesn't want to do, and if you can't see that, then you're the one who doesn't deserve her. She needs honesty Casavir. She has been through more than you will ever know. And that's the one thing she'll never get from you."

Casavir made to speak once more, but Bishop cut him off, turning to leave with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"If you're attending a ball together, then I suggest you prepare yourself for the hardest struggle of your life. That woman has a way of getting under your skin, and you'll be no exception. Now, be a good boy and kindly fuck off."

Bishop walked away, leaving Casavir standing alone, hurt and confused, watching him disappear in the direction that Aellana had gone.

 

* * *

 

He wouldn't have let Casavir see it, but Bishop was genuinely surprised, and a little bit hurt that Aellana would agree to attend a ball with the Paladin. What they'd shared last night had felt special, and real, but finding her gone this morning made him think that maybe he'd misunderstood her intentions. That there was a spark between them was undeniable, but perhaps lust was all it was on both their parts. But he realised that he didn't believe that, not for himself anyway. What he felt for Aellana was strange and new. He'd had women. Lots of women, but there was something different in the way it was with her. She wasn't just a body to warm his bed, but he didn't quite know how to navigate these new feelings.

Bishop found Aellana in The Jewel, browsing through their wares. He stood back and watched her for a few moments, just enjoying the sight of her ice-blue eyes light up as she ran her hands over the sumptuous fabrics and expensive furs that were scattered everywhere.

She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, waving him over with a smile, which he returned warmly before even realising he'd done it. By the gods, what was this woman doing to him?

"What do you think of this?" she asked, holding up a silver dress, embellished with navy swirls and flowers the colour of the night sky, with a high neck emblazoned with pearls.

"Suits you," he said. And he meant it. The dark colours set her eyes ablaze, making her hair stand out in stark contrast to the dark lace that covered the bodice. "The embassy won't know what hit them."

"Bishop," she said quietly, shuffling nervously from one foot to the other. "I hope you don't mind, but I agreed to go to the Grand Crystal Ball with Casavir. Do you mind?"

To his own surprise, he realised he didn't. She'd not kept it from him, which set his mind at ease. But he was curious. "No, I don't mind. But why did you agree?"

"He's new to Skyrim, and the social politics here can get pretty confusing. He's the guest of honour, and I'm in a position to help."

The damned woman was always trying to help! But then that was one of the things he lo...that he admired so much about her, even if he thought she was naive and misguided at times.

"Well, he'll have the most beautiful woman at his side."

Aellana looked up, genuinely surprised at the compliment. "You could...I mean, would you come?"

"To the ball?" Bishop laughed at that. "You won't see me prancing about like some noble." When he saw her crestfallen face though, he added, "no offence."

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll make sure you have your name on the door."

She looked so genuinely disappointed that he didn't want to attend the ball that he nearly changed his mind there and then, but no, he had no business being there. He'd just be awkward and say something to embarrass her. She'd be better off if he stayed away.

Aellana sighed, seeing that she wasn't likely to convince him to come. But she was hopeful, and just in case, had an idea.

"I'll meet you back at the Skeever, Bish, and we can prepare for tonight. I'll settle up for the dress and meet you there." She smiled at him, and he gave her a cheery wave, heading out the door. Aellana made her way to the proprietor, paying for her dress for the embassy party that night. But she'd brought her pack, and making sure Bishop was well and truly gone, she turned to the woman and produced the dress she'd escaped her home in, so many months ago.

The woman's eyes widened in wonder at the craftsmanship but tutted at the state of the hems and sleeves.

"I know this is probably an odd request, but is there any chance you can repair it for me?"

"It's quite an ask," the woman replied, turning the dress over in her hands. "The damage is quite extensive."

"It's for the Grand Crystal Ball. Feel free to make any changes, and I'll be sure to mention whose craftsmanship it is."

The woman's eyes lit up. It was a beautiful dress, and with a few adjustments, she could claim the craftsmanship. That was all the incentive that she needed. With a dress like this, all eyes would be on Aellana. Business would be booming come the morning.

But Aellana didn't care about any of that. All she wanted was for Bishop to see her and think she was beautiful.


	25. One Hell of a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned to do a backstory reveal for Bishop and Casavir at the end of this chapter, but it all ended up a bit long and I didn't want to just tack it on the end. I'll be uploading it as it's own chapter in the next few days, so if you're a Cas fan, stay tuned! :)

      Aellana paused at the threshold of the embassy, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves. It had been at least two years since she last attended a function like this in Skyrim, and the thought of going in alone and unarmed was making her nervous. The guard at the gate gave her an appraising look, and she returned what she hoped was a winning smile, smoothing her skirts and stepping toward him with her invitation in an outstretched hand. He barely glanced at it before waving her through. She tried not to make her relief too evident as she entered the building.

The soiree was in full swing, with guests talking and laughing while music floated toward her from the end of the main hall. She received appreciative looks and smiles from some of the other guests, which she returned graciously, smiling and nodding as she made her way inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall Altmer woman break away from a lively conversation, and make her way over. She moved elegantly, her long limbs swaying gracefully. Her skin was dark, her features pointed, her eyes glittering with intelligence and cunning. Within seconds she was blocking Aellana's path, towering over her.

"I don't believe we've met before," she said, looking Aellana over. "I usually know everyone invited to my parties."

Aellana curtsied, as she'd been taught to do as a child, bowing her head slightly, and bending down in a single, fluid, sweeping motion. "Apologies. My name is Aellana Evensnow, of the Skyrim Evensnows."

"Ahh, yes," the woman's eyes seemed to light up. She looked almost mischievous, and Aellana had to stop herself from rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms on her skirt. "The Evensnow girl. I approved your invitation myself on the request of a good friend of mine. I am Elenwen, Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim."

Aellana could have sworn she saw a flash of malice in the other woman's eye, like a fox who had a hare trapped in its burrow. But she ignored her sudden unease, instead, replying graciously, "a pleasure to meet you, my lady."

"Yes, yes," Elenwen waved her hands dismissively. "Please come in, let me introduce you to some of my guests." She took Aellana by the arm, leading her into the hall and over to the group of people she'd been talking to until only a few moments ago. "My friends, let me introduce you to a new face. This is Aellana Evensnow, Sigrund's daughter." The group smiled and nodded at her, and she tried to return their looks as politely as she could. "Aellana, my dear, I believe you are already acquainted with my good friend here." She led Aellena to a man who stood by the fireplace, his back to the party.

As they approached, he turned, and Aellana froze in horror. The man before her was Gunmar Jurgarinson. He bared his teeth in a predatory smile as he looked over to where they stood, and Elenwen gave a vicious chuckle, pushing her forward. "Why don't I let you two get reacquainted?" And with that she stalked away, to mingle with her other guests.

Gunmar leaned casually on the mantlepiece, looking Aellana over as if inspecting a costly cut of meat. Even though her dress was modest to a fault, she still felt naked under his scrutiny as she tried to push the last time they had met to the back of her mind. She couldn't fall apart here. It wasn't entirely unexpected that she should meet a Skyrim noble at a society party. This had always been a possibility, from the day she stopped trying to hide. But gods, she wished she weren't alone at this moment. She wanted to run, to hide, to be anywhere else but here, but instead, she swallowed her fear, smiled and curtsied.

"My lord, what a pleasant surprise. I hope you are well?"

Gunmar seemed taken aback at her casual and polite tone as she rose and offered him her hand to kiss.

"All the better for seeing you, my dear."

"You are too kind. I have just arrived, shall I get us both a drink?"

"Will you return and share a toast with me?"

"Nothing would give me more pleasure." She forced another smile on her face, before turning around and heading to the bar to collect herself. Elenwen had known. Gunmar Jurgarinson must have been the friend who had requested her invitation be approved. How could she have been so stupid as to have let Delphine talk her into this godsawful plan?

She leaned on the bar, calming her breathing, only barely registering that she was on the cusp of hyperventilating. It wouldn't do to fall apart now. When she looked up, she was surprised to see Malborn behind the bar giving her a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, trying not to make their acquaintance visible.

"Yes, sorry." She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Just bumped into someone I wasn't expecting to see."

"The big guy who keeps staring at you?"

"That'll be him." She could have sworn she could still feel his eyes boring into her back. "Don't worry about me, he's nothing I can't handle." Now that they were talking, time was of the essence. Their conversation couldn't last longer than would be appropriate for Aellana to order drinks. "Tell me what I need to do, Malborn, and where I need to go. I want to leave this party as soon as possible."

"There are two ways into the embassy proper from here. Through the kitchens, or through Elenwen's private entrance. You need to either convince Elenwen to let you through or cause a distraction so I can let you into the kitchens. I would recommend the former, for obvious reasons. Once you're through, there is a guest bedroom to the left of the main corridor. Your armour and weapons are in a chest at the end of the bed, ready for you to collect. Leave the dress in there, and I'll bring it to you back at the Inn."

"Thank you, Malborn," she said as the Bosmer handed her two crystal goblets of blood-red wine. He nodded, almost imperceptibly as she walked away.

"Good luck."

Gunmar Jurgarinson was just where she'd left him. He seemed at home in this setting, the centre of attention. His hair and beard were perfectly groomed. His clothes were expertly tailored to fit his, admittedly, fine form, while every finger glittered and sparkled with jewels and gold. He was wealthy, and he wanted everyone to know it, and Aellana couldn't help but notice quite a few of the women looking in his direction, shooting her envious glances. He would be a good catch for a family who craved upward mobility. It was exactly why her mother had chosen him in the first place.

"You look ravishing this evening, my dear," Gunmar practically salivated, moving toward her. His eyes moved up and down her body as if undressing her in his mind, and Aellana groaned, realising suddenly that she'd just thought of the perfect way to get Elenwen to let them into the embassy. "What is wrong, my dear, are you not pleased to see me?"

 _Bishop,_  she thought to herself,  _please forgive me._  She stepped toward Gunmar and smiled at him brilliantly. He was stunned for a moment, her reaction completely unexpected, mesmerised by the fact that she'd smiled directly at him. A smile that seemed genuinely warm.

"On the contrary, my lord. I am  _very_  pleased to see you," she purred, lowering her eyelids seductively. "I apologise for my behaviour the last time we met. I was foolish, and didn't see my mother's wisdom." She took a step toward him and saw him lick his lips in predatory anticipation. She kept her face calm though, repressing a shudder of revulsion at what she was about to do.

"No matter my dear. I have vast experience with women and understand you to be fickle creatures. I am glad you have finally come to your senses."

Aellana had to stop herself rolling her eyes. What Gunmar Jurgarinson knew about women could likely be written on a grain of rice. But thankfully that made him entirely predictable. His arrogance was so great that he thought himself irresistible, and that hubris was precisely what she needed to take advantage of right now.

"I am so happy that we have the chance to start over," she took another step forward, leaning past him to put both their untouched drinks on the mantle behind him. She felt him stiffen as her body brushed against his, and decided that there was no point drawing this out longer than she had to. She leaned toward him, pressing her hand to his already hardening cock, and squeezed it gently as she leaned in to kiss him, hoping he didn't notice how she scrunched her eyes shut and her hand trembled ever so slightly. He responded almost immediately, and she whispered into his ear, "I made the mistake of rejecting you once before. Is there somewhere we could go, to continue this conversation? Somewhere more private perhaps?"

Gunmar growled low in his throat as she pulled away. Within moments he had crossed the floor to where Elenwen stood, gesturing and motioning her direction as he babbled hurriedly.

 _Quick Aellana, think!_  She had only a moment to think of a plan. She had no weapons so she couldn't subdue Gunmar with force. He was much bigger than she was. She'd have to get him to incapacitate himself before she could continue her mission. Thankfully no one would miss him from the party now, although gods knew what the other guests must think of her. She'd already seen a few dirty looks thrown her way by some of the more elderly guests. She could almost hear their judgment.  _Like mother, like daughter,_  their eyes seemed to say.

"Follow me, my dear," Gunmar said, reappearing at her side. "I am eager to continue our," he squeezed her backside, and Aellana suppressed another shudder, "conversation."

She could have sworn Elenwen winked at her as they passed, and despite herself, she felt her cheeks colour. She was going to have a tough time explaining this one when it made the broadsheets. She was an Evensnow, Gunmar Jurgarinson was one of the wealthiest men in Skyrim, and her mother was a famous socialite. She could practically see the headlines already.

As the door to the embassy clicked shut behind her, Gunmar pounced. He forced his lips down onto hers, his tongue darting impatiently into her mouth that was open in surprise. Without even thinking she pushed him away. His eyes clouded over, his lustful visage turning to anger. Aellana had to think fast. She put a calming hand on his chest.

"Patience, my lord. We have denied ourselves for so long. Let us not rush, and take time with our pleasure." She took his hand. It was too soft and slightly clammy. It seemed appropriate that his skin should feel as slimy as the man he was. She looked around quickly, and then finally saw the guest bedroom that Malborn had mentioned. She led Gunmar toward it, purposefully putting a sway in her hips as she walked, beckoning him onward.

The room was beautifully decorated. It was lit by candles, ensconced in gold and silver candelabras. Art adorned every wall, and with a start, she recognised one of her own pieces from when she was barely out of her teens! A large, four-poster bed dominated the room, and for the first time, Aellana felt relief. She knew exactly how she would incapacitate the man now.

Gunmar once again tried to grab for her, but she gently shushed him. She pushed him gently onto the end of the bed, and stepped back, instructing him to stay where he was. She reached up, and let her hair free, allowing it to spill over her shoulders. She reached toward the back of the dress, slowly undoing each button, making the dress spill over her shoulders, leaving them bare. The dark, navy skirts were attached to the bodice by a pair of interlaced brocade cords, which Aellana was now grateful for. When she let the dress fall, she heard Gunmar gasp as he saw her form for the first time. She kicked off her shoes and made her way toward him. He grabbed at her greedily, but she had to stall him. Make him think that he still had control of the situation. She leaned down and whispered breathily in his ear, "take off my underwear." When his hands darted out in anticipation, she added, "with your teeth."

He groaned and obliged, giving Aellana a few more precious seconds to look around and see how she could accomplish the next part of her plan. She'd already set the tone for this to go slowly, so she could comfortably take her time now, and he wouldn't get suspicious.

When he'd divested her of her underwear and left her naked, he moved to take her in his arms and lift her onto the bed. As he deposited her on her back, she stuck out her foot, halting him once more, tutting at him.

"Why so impatient, my lord? Surely you don't mean to take me with all your clothes still on?" He madly started to rip at his clothes, but Aellana placed her hands on his to stop him. "Please, let me."

She slowly removed his clothes, starting with his weapons. She threw those as far away from them as she could, but he barely seemed to notice. He stood there like a proud peacock, relishing the attention he was getting. When she removed his trousers, and his length sprang free, he tried to push her head down toward it, but she fought with a playful, "not yet, my lord." The deference seemed to be the catalyst to keeping him calm. Once he was naked, she instructed him to lie back on the bed, picking up the cords from her dress, and straddling him slowly. She forced herself to trail her hands across his chest, letting him paw at her breasts for a few moments. The man had no finesse. If she'd allowed him to have his way he'd probably have just taken her like an animal, their coupling over in seconds. She reached up and tied one of his wrists to a bedpost. He gave her a surprised look, but she returned it with a wink. She tied his other wrist tightly to the bedpost, tugging it to make sure the binds would hold.

"My, my, we are full of surprises, aren't we?" Gunmar pulled against his bindings, intrigued at how such a small woman could have got them quite so tight.

"You have no idea."

Gunmar's head whipped up in surprise while Aellana jumped off the bed in fright at the voice that had cut through the silence of the room.

In the doorway stood Bishop, Thaiden, and Frea, Malborn hovering nervously behind them. Aellana felt herself flush a deep crimson, suddenly aware of how very naked she was, and how very naked Gunmar Jurgarinson was.

"Bishop!" she cried in surprise. "This isn't what it looks like. I mean, it sort of is, but also isn't."

Thaiden crossed the room in three, long strides, pulling his greatsword free and holding it to Gunmar's throat. The man lay utterly helpless on the bed. Aellana's binding had done the trick.

"Did he hurt you?" Thaiden asked Aellana, but she just shook her head. Turning to Bishop and Frea, he added, "this is Gunmar Jurgarinson. The man Lana's mother practically sold her to."

Bishop growled, low and animalistic, drawing his bow and aiming it directly at Gunmar's head.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you, right now." Gunmar was whimpering and pleading, and when an acrid smell suddenly filled the room, they all realised that he'd wet himself in fear. Bishop laughed then, low and cruel. "You're pathetic a worm, Jurgarinson." He turned to Aellana who was already collecting her armour and weapons from the chest, pulling them on hurriedly. "You alright, Lana?"

"I'm fine, really," she said, trying to wave off his concern while her heart was still pounding at what had just happened. "I put myself in this situation. It was the best way I could think of to get into the embassy, and without weapons I had to use what I had to incapacitate him."

Gunmar looked at Aellana, and the hurt and betrayal in his eyes almost made her feel sorry for him.

Almost.

"Did he have to be naked though?" Bishop asked, then whispered to her, "did  _you_  have to be naked?"

Aellana laughed nervously. "I needed the ties from my dress to bind him, and I had to change to get into my armour anyway, so the nakedness was unavoidable I'm afraid. But him being naked? I just thought that would be funny when someone came to find him."

All four of them turned as one to stare at Aellana, and Bishop burst out laughing. "By the gods, woman. You are something else."

"How on earth did you get in here though?" Aellana asked, grateful that she had her friends by her side once more.

"We bribed the Khajit woman who works in the kitchens to let us in."

"Seriously? That was it?" After all Delphine's talk of security and there being no other way, and all they had to do was pay a member of the kitchen staff to get in? She was absolutely going to  _kill_  Delphine.

"The wealthy and powerful always forget about the little people. They expect an attack, not subtle infiltration through the kitchens."

"Come on," Aellana said, buckling on her sword belt and pushing her hair back out of her face, fastening it in a long braid. "Let's get this over with. I don't want to spend another second more here than I have to."

"What about me?" Gunmar was quivering and crying, still tied to the bed.

"You're lucky you're still alive," Bishop growled. "You'll stay here until someone finds you. And I swear on my wolf's life, if you ever come near Aellana again, I will personally run you through with my sword."

Thankfully Gunmar hadn't yet had the presence of mind to call for help, but Aellana wasn't taking any chances. She tore a sleeve off his shirt that she'd discarded on the floor, and saw him flinch as she destroyed the expensive item. It gave her a sick kind of pleasure to see him upset by her treatment of his belongings, so she tore his trousers down the middle as well, just for good measure. She roughly used the sleeve to gag him, making any noise impossible. He glared daggers at her, but she just wrinkled her nose at the smell of the sheets that surrounded him and said quietly, but with real malice, "you disgust me."

They all exited the room, leaving Gunmar to his fate, and Malborn quickly closed and locked the door behind them. "I need to get back to the party before someone notices I'm gone. I've already put myself in too much danger." He was clearly worried the Gunmar had seen him. "Head through here, cross the courtyard and enter the building at the end of the compound. That's where all the official documents are housed. Good luck."

Aellana thanked him as he hurried back to the party. They could hear the distant sounds of merrymaking mingle with the clank of armour from the patrols that kept watch on the building. Thankfully the soiree had masked most of the noise they'd made thus far, but the further into the compound they ventured the quieter they would have to be.

Bishop took the lead, letting his keen hunter's senses warn them of approaching soldiers. They crept silently from one room to the next, wary and on edge. But with the Ranger's skills, they remained undiscovered. Emerging into a courtyard, Bishop quickly waved them back, narrowly avoiding being spotted by a guard patrol who seemed to be inspecting the perimeter. A quick scan revealed three more patrols and no way to cross the completely open courtyard undetected.

It was Frea who had the idea to try the rooftops. She clambered expertly up the ragged stone facade of the building from which they'd just emerged. They watched her in surprise as she moved quickly and gracefully, never once losing her footing.

"Where on earth did she learn to do that?" Thaiden breathed. "By the gods, I love that woman!" He smiled sheepishly when Aellana gave him a playful punch on the arm but was thankfully saved from any further embarrassment when Frea produced a rope from her pack, securing it to the chimney stack, throwing it down to let them gain access. They clambered up one by one, keeping low and silent so as not to alert the guards, pulling the rope up once more before the next patrol passed by.

They crossed the rooftops in silence, careful with their footing so as not to disturb the shingles. One stray foot could send a whole Thalmor contingent down on them, which would not only be incredibly inconvenient for them personally but also had the potential to cause a political storm that could rock all of Skyrim. But they were thankfully all sure-footed and crossed to the administration building with no issue.

They entered a large, opulently decorated entrance hall. Evidence of the daily running of the embassy was everywhere, with stacks of papers, reception rooms branching off to the sides, and official documents lining the walls in bookshelves filled to overflowing. Sigils for the Thalmor and Altmer noble houses decorated almost every piece of furniture, while every wall was covered in expensive works of art. The entire building was set up to convey opulence, wealth and power.

They split up, searching the offices for anything that might tell them something about the dragons. They barely knew what they were looking for, but Aellana was sure they'd know it when they found it. But after searching for close to an hour they were no closer to discovering anything new, and with each passing moment, they were more and more likely to be found.

"Lana, over here!" Thaiden whispered gruffly and beckoned the group over. At first, they couldn't see why, but then they heard voices floating toward them from what seemed to be inside the wall. Closer inspection revealed a concealed door, with steps leading downward.

"What's an embassy without a hidden dungeon, eh?" Bishop remarked wryly as they descended. The base of the stairs had a large, wooden door and Bishop stepped aside with a mock bow.

"I believe this is a job for you, princess."

Aellana glared at him, but good-naturedly, as she made light work of the lock, gently pushing it open. They held their collective breaths, hoping it wouldn't creak and give away their presence. But their luck held firm, and the door swung silently.

The room smelled of blood and fear. It was mostly silent except for the scurrying feet of rats that wove between the rushes that were spread on the floor. To soak up the blood, Aellana supposed wryly. Within moments, however, the screams began. The voice belonged to a man, hoarse and ragged, most likely from repeated torture by his Thalmor captors.

"Please," the man sobbed and cried, "I don't know anything else!"

His protestations were ignored as the screaming continued, and despite the danger, Aellana found herself running forward to help the man. Bishop tried to stop her, but she would not stand idly by while someone was tortured. Bishop may be able to live with himself, but she certainly could not.

She rounded the corner just as one of the Thalmor torturers took aim with what appeared to be a mace. The man they were beating was barely recognisable as such. His face was swollen, and his torso a mess of bloodied flesh. His arms were chained above his head, which rolled down onto his chest as if just keeping himself upright was an effort.

An axe flew past her head and lodged itself into the back of one of the torturers. The other turned, only to find himself with an arrow bristling from his eye. Aellana hadn't lifted a finger, and when she turned around, Bishop and Frea just shrugged, while Thaiden pushed forward to rifle through the guards' armour, finding a key to release the bloodied and shackled man before them.

"Please," he mumbled out between his split lips and thirst-swollen tongue, "I don't know anything else. Please."

"We're not here to torture you," Thaiden said gently, bending down to offer the man some water from his flask, which he took greedily. "We're here to help you."

"Help me?" The man looked up, heartbreaking hope shining from his eyes, and Aellana cursed the Thalmor and anyone else who could be so cruel to another being. As Thaiden loosed his shackles the man fell forward with a thud, finally sitting upright and rubbing gently at his bloodied wrists.

Bishop and Frea had disappeared to search the surrounding area for documents that could give them what they'd come for, while Aellana and Thaiden helped the man recover enough to get back on his feet.

"What did they want with you?"

"Picked me up in Riften," the man spat out blood as he spoke. "They're looking for some old guy named Esbern. He's been hiding in the Thieves Guild."

"Lana, you might want to take a look at this." Bishop and Frea had returned, holding a stack of documents. Aellana turned to look through the pile of papers while Thaiden continued to tend to the man, who revealed his name to be Etienne. The records turned out to be official dossiers. Delphine and this Esbern character all had bulging files, and it seemed they both belonged to these mysterious 'Blades' that Delphine had told them about. The last dossier in the pile was full of the Thalmor research on the dragons. It looks like they were trying to find the exact same information that the Blades were.

"They had nothing to do with the dragons rising," Aellana said flatly. "This has all been a colossal waste of fucking time." She really  _was_  going to kill Delphine.

Frea was still flipping through one of the dossiers and looked up. "Maybe not. Look here," she pointed to a page in Esbern's file. "It looks like the Thalmor believe this Esbern may know something."

Aellana groaned. Why couldn't anything just be easy? This was one wild goose chase after another, and she was, quite frankly, getting more than a little tired of it.

Bishop came up and put an arm on her shoulder, prising the documents from her vicelike grip. She hadn't realised she'd been gripping them so tightly until that moment. It was Etienne who broke the silence.

"As much as I'm sorry you didn't get what you came for, may I suggest we get the hell out of here?"

"Do you know the way?" Thaiden enquired, turning to the injured man, hooking an arm about his waist to help him walk.

He nodded. "There's a trapdoor in the far corner that will lead us straight back to Solitude. Follow me."


	26. The Ranger's Tale

    Bishop lay beside her propped up on one elbow, letting a finger trail lazily down Aellana's side. For the first time, the two of them were relaxed and happy in each other's company. They'd made love, slowly and passionately, and were now both lying naked on the bed, merely content to enjoy the nearness of the other.

"I didn't like you going into that embassy alone," Bishop breathed, bringing his face down and leaning his forehead against hers. There was something oddly vulnerable in the moment, and Aellana reached up to touch his cheek, kissing him gently as he pulled back. "You should have let me kill Jurgarinson."

"He's not worth it. I prefer you at my side, not rotting in a cell somewhere."

"Will you reconsider going to the ball tomorrow night?"

"I can't," Aellana sighed. "I'm already committed, and I doubt Gunmar will be there." She put a comforting hand on his arm. "I'll be fine, Bish."

"It's not him that I'm worried about." Bishop's eyes clouded over. Any mention of Casavir elicited that same reaction. He went silent, lost in his own thoughts, drifting away from Aellana even as he rolled onto his back beside her.

She inched closer to him, snuggling against his warm chest, breathing in his scent. "You can trust me, Bish."

"It's not you I don't trust."

Aellana didn't want to push him, so she just lay there, trusting him to open up to her in his own time. To her surprise he put an arm around her, pulling her closer, gently kissing her hair.

"We used to be friends, you know." Bishop's voice was so quiet she almost didn't hear him. She looked up at his face, but he seemed somewhere else. Lost in a world of his own where she couldn't follow.

"What happened?"

Bishop sat up, shuffling back to lean against the bedhead, unsure whether to continue. Aellana positioned herself cross-legged near his feet, giving him space, but offering her support if he wanted to talk.

Bishop had never really opened up to another person before. He was private and didn't want to give anyone the fuel they would need to take advantage of him. For the first time in his life, he felt like he could unburden himself. This was a story he'd been carrying for years. A pain that had never left him. He took a deep breath and decided it was time.

 

* * *

 

Casavir was the son of a noble family from Neverwinter in Faerûn. When Bishop was very young his family's troupe had performed in the town. By day, Bishop went hunting with his father to feed the hungry troupe, and at night they played to the poor and noble alike. There were plenty of hunting spots on the outskirts of the city, but the best game could be found on the local landowner's property. Bishop and his father would set traps and hunt the lord's animals, but unbeknownst to them, they were being observed.

Within a matter of days, the guards arrived, and Bishop was arrested. Despite his youth (he was only five years old at the time) the lord threatened to have him and his father imprisoned. But, the lord had a son, just a year or two older than Bishop, and he'd seen the boy's hunting skills. The lord proposed an exchange. Every year, Bishop would spend two months at his manor, teaching his son combat and hunting skills, offering companionship, and in return, neither Bishop nor his father would be punished for poaching on his land. His father jumped at the opportunity, and so, every year until he was of age, Bishop would spend time in Neverwinter, at Casavir's estate.

Casavir was a quiet child. Despite his noble upbringing, he had none of the airs and graces that usually came with nobility. He was a pacifist and seemed to detest violence in all its forms. He would rather spend time lost in a book, or enjoying music than taking up arms and learning combat skills. Bishop, on the other hand, was wild and violent, incredibly skilled with a blade and a bow, even at such a young age. The two should never have got along, but they saw something in each other that made them a formidable team.

Despite his pacifism, Casavir wasn't weak. He was strong-willed, with a profound sense of justice. He tempered Bishop's wild side, while Bishop taught him that physical strength need not be needless. Bishop's life was hard and cruel, whereas Casavir had been born to privilege. He saw and understood this, and let Bishop teach and guide him in the ways of a world that he didn't understand. By the time the pair had reached their early teens, Casavir had already expressed interest in becoming a Paladin. He was drawn to the use of his new found strength and combat talent as a catalyst for good. The Paladin's love for art, culture, and focus on Justice was something that spoke to him.

But then, Tielian had come into their lives.

Tielian was the daughter of the Redguard ambassador to Neverwinter. She was fierce and fearless, as brash and wild as Casavir was calm and serene. Despite her noble upbringing she was never as happy as when she was out in the forests. She was almost as skilled with a bow as Bishop himself, and after a chance meeting in the woods on a hunting trip, the three had been inseparable. She had appeared among the trees like a huntress from a fairy story, her long, raven hair cascading around her face in unruly waves, her pale gold eyes shining with intensity against the backdrop of her skin.

Those months he spent in Neverwinter had been the happiest of Bishop's life. No matter what else was happening, the time he spent with Casavir and Tielian was a reprieve from the tornado of his existence. Even once his family was dead, and his obligation to Casavir's father ended, he still returned to his friends, desperate for one piece of normalcy in his otherwise chaotic life.

It wasn't long before Tielian and Casavir had developed feelings for each other. It had started with stolen glances and dances at society functions but soon had grown into something richer, and more profound. They were darkness and light, a perfect blend of contradictions that brought out the best in each other. Anyone who saw them together knew they belonged, and their parents couldn't have been happier with the match. They were the golden couple of Neverwinter, set to cement a powerful alliance between the noble houses of Faerûn and Hammerfell. It came as no surprise to Bishop when Casavir admitted his love for Tielian and his intention to marry her. Their betrothal was the talk of the town.

A month before the wedding, Casavir disappeared, telling neither Tielian or Bishop of his whereabouts. He returned a few weeks later, a fully fledged Paladin, having pledged himself to the order of Tyr.

Tielian was heartbroken, and the political fallout was swift and final. The Redguard were incensed by his betrayal and took it as a political affront. As a consequence, Casavir's family were disgraced and stripped of all titles. To this day, no one knew why he had done it. But the reasons were irrelevant. The damage was done.

Because an alliance between Faerûn and Hammerfell had been promised, a match had to be made, and quickly. Tielian was forced to marry a Neverwintian thirty years her senior on the very day on which she was to have wed Casavir.

Something inside her broke that day. Her spark had dimmed. Within days she would appear in public, a hollow shell of the woman she once was, and it wasn't long after that Bishop started noticing the bruises. At first she kept them hidden under high necked and long sleeved gowns, but Bishop could see. He always saw.

She appeared at his door a few nights before he planned to leave Neverwinter for good. He no longer recognised the friends he'd spent so many years with, and there was nothing he could do to save either of them from themselves. Her eye was black, her lip split, and she trembled as she collapsed into his arms. Her husband had been beating her regularly because she refused to submit herself to him. He wanted heirs, but she was unwilling to provide them. She wanted her first experience of love to be with someone who cared about her. After that, she would do her duty and be the wife that everyone expected her to be.

Casavir had rejected her, turning her out into the street when she'd come to him, begging for the love she would never experience. His Paladin vows forbade him. And so she came to Bishop. She asked him to make love to her, to let her feel like a real woman for the first and only time in her life before she resigned herself to a loveless marriage forced on her for no reason other than politics.

He resisted at first. In his eyes, she was still his best friend's betrothed, and it felt wrong to betray him in that way. But her tears moved him. She deserved better than what had befallen her, and if this was the only way he could offer her comfort then so be it.

They had made love gently. Bishop had never been in love with Tielian, but he poured every ounce of fondness he had for her into that night. She had fallen asleep wrapped in his arms, sneaking out in the early hours, just before dawn.

But they'd been observed. Her husband was a suspicious man and had been having her followed, something of which she was completely unaware. By the time she returned home, her husband knew everything.

It was midday when Casavir had barged into Bishop's lodgings, drawing his sword. His quick reflexes were all that had saved him from being run through. They had fought until he had finally managed to disarm Casavir, and demand to know what was going on.

Tielian was dead. Killed by her husband for her infidelity.

 

* * *

 

"Casavir blamed me for her death. I did too, for a long time."

Aellana's face was streaked with tears as Bishop finished his story. She understood now the animosity between the two men.

"Don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong," but Bishop just shook his head.

"If I'd refused her, she'd still be alive."

"You gave her what she needed to survive. No one is responsible for her death apart from the man who killed her." He smiled at that. A tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Now you see why the two of us don't get along. Casavir's never accepted responsibility for the part he played in Tielian's death. For him, becoming a Paladin was more important than keeping a promise to the woman he loved."

"He blames you."

"And he hides his own guilt behind a guise of holy righteousness." The pain and anger in Bishop's eyes were almost too much to bear. "He left Neverwinter in disgrace, but it didn't follow him. He's looked up to and respected, and the world has no idea what kind of man he is behind that facade. He betrayed Tielian the day he became a Paladin. I wish the world could see him for what he truly is."

"The day we argued outside the Inn you told me you wanted to see him break. To destroy his reputation. Did you mean that?"

Bishop looked right into her eyes, with resolve like none she'd ever seen.

"With all my heart."

"What would you give to see that happen?"

"Anything."

"Then, I have an idea."

Aellana crawled up the bed toward him and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Bishop's eyes widened in surprise as she told him what she proposed. She sat back, scanning his face, trying to gauge his reaction. He smiled at her then, baring his teeth in a vicious sneer.

"Naughty girl," he said, drawing her forward and kissing her deeply.

The Grand Crystal Ball was about to become a lot more interesting.        


	27. The Grand Crystal Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the absence. I had a publishing deadline recently, on top of which our landlord has decided to sell the house we're in at the moment, so every spare moment has been taken up with finding somewhere to live!
> 
> But, today I decided to forget about everything else and just do some writing for me. Here are the fruits of my labours. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, in case you need it, a warning: This contains all of the sex!

            Casavir shuffled nervously from one foot to the other as he waited in the Winking Skeever. He felt uncomfortable in places like this. The noise, the alcohol, the immorality of it all! In dark nooks and crannies, he imagined he saw shady deals, underhanded trade, and couples letting their carnal natures take them over. What was happening in Skyrim? Where were truth, justice, and chivalry?

"Casavir?" A touch on his arm snapped him free from his imaginings. Glancing around he saw that the tavern was filled, not with hardened criminals and whores as he'd imagined, but simply by people laughing and enjoying each other's company over ale. "Casavir? Are you alright?" He turned to find the source of the voice, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw who it was. He'd been expecting her, but seeing her appear so suddenly still came as a surprise.

Aellana stood beside him, a look of concern on her face. She'd been trying to get his attention for a while, but he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he'd utterly failed to register she was there. When he caught sight of her, he went pale, his eyes widening to an almost comical degree. She chuckled to herself. This was going to be easier than she'd thought. She wished Bishop could have been here to see this reaction. He'd have loved it. But, the Ranger had left the inn a few hours ago with no more explanation than he 'had something to take care of'.

The dress she wore was so at odds with the woman he perceived her to be that Casavir could hardly fathom that he was looking at the Dragonborn. The woman he'd met a few days ago in her travelling clothes had seemed demure and pure (despite her choice of companion). The woman in front of him now looked positively salacious! He was dimly aware that the entire tavern had gone strangely silent as they watched him desperately try and think of something to say. He cursed himself for being so awkward, and even worse, rude. The overheard murmurs from some patrons behind him brought him back to his senses. He didn't like their tone of voice. Even though he couldn't hear the content, he could sense exactly what they were thinking, so he turned back to Aellana, and bowed deeply. She was a woman worthy of respect, and he'd show these Skyrim bastards a thing or two about chivalry.

"You look ravishing, my lady," he said, planting a kiss on the back of her hand as he did so. And he meant it.

Aellana's dress was the same she'd worn the night she'd met Gunmar Jurgarinson but with some alterations thanks to the seamstress at The Jewel. The sleeves had been beyond saving, so they'd been removed and replaced with sheer, beaded fabric that sat off the shoulder, leaving her skin bare and radiant. Black, onyx beadwork glittered as she moved, setting off the turquoise silk of the dress, contrasting with her white hair and skin. The pattern continued down in swirls across the top of the bodice, which further accentuated it's incredibly low cut. The proprietor had even thrown in a matching necklace that emphasised her long neck, setting her ice blue eyes ablaze. The full skirt was covered by sheer, pearlescent, black gauze that shimmered as she moved, a repeating pattern in black onyx cleverly masking the damage to the hem below.

Aellana smiled widely at Casavir, taking him by the arm and leading him out of the tavern. He was almost afraid to look at her. The way she made him feel...he didn't know how he was going to make it through the evening. His cheeks grew hot as he saw the looks thrown their way as they walked through Solitude in the direction of the Blue Palace. He was a Paladin. He shouldn't be seen in the company of a woman. At least not arm in arm with one dressed like this. But he also found that he didn't care. He felt a fierce pride swelling in his chest as he saw the appreciative and sometimes jealous looks cast his way. For this evening at least, this woman was his.

The palace courtyard was bustling with activity. The wealth and connection were evident everywhere they looked. Food and drink were served from silver plates and crystal goblets, and as Casavir and Aellana entered arm in arm, a hushed silence fell over the throng with whispered murmurs of 'Dragonborn' floating toward them.

"It seems I am not the only one who can't keep my eyes off you this evening, my lady," Casavir said graciously.

"I think you're receiving a few appreciative glances yourself, Casavir," Aellana replied teasingly, gesturing to a gaggle of young nobles who were whispering and giggling behind their fans as they looked at the Paladin. Aellana had to admit, he cut a fine figure in his perfectly tailored clothes. He wore a plain, lightly patterned silver doublet over a white shirt, his sword strapped to his waist lending him a regal air. He didn't need bright colours or intricate patterns to show off. The plain-ness of his clothes let his natural good looks shine out, and Aellana wasn't above feeling proud to appear on his arm.

The ballroom of the Blue Palace was beyond anything Aellana could have imagined. The vaulted ceiling dripped with gold, even the white marble floors were inlaid with it. Everything was clean and bright, and despite the ostentatious display of wealth, the effect was simple and incredibly classy.

A man approached them as they entered, and Casavir had a look of panic on his face, not knowing what to do or say. Aellana whispered something in the man's ear and led Casavir to the staircase with a smile. This is what she was here for. She knew the social intricacies of Skyrim's elite.

The man announced them as they descended to the floor below. She saw a few dancers stop as they entered, curious to see who the newcomers might be.

"May I present Sir Casavir, Paladin of the order of Tyr, and Aellana Evensnow, of House Evensnow, the Dragonborn of Skyrim."

The crowd displayed a mix of emotions. Their curiosity piqued at finally laying eyes on the Dragonborn, but simultaneously, it was no secret that Skyrim nobles were no great lovers of Paladins. At best, they found them insufferably self-righteous, at worst they found them hypocrites. It was widely known that many of the Paladin elite harboured mistresses in Skyrim's capital, although Aellana suspected that Casavir remained willfully ignorant of that fact. Ironically, Aellana's plan for the evening would improve Casavir's social standing in Skyrim. A self-righteous Paladin would have most doors closed to him. There was nothing Skyrim's nobles detested more than feeling judged. A hypocrite at least they could relate to. It would humanise him in their eyes, making them more willing to invite him into their homes.

It didn't take long before the novelty of their entrance had worn off, and they found themselves alone. Casavir seemed nervous, so she took him to the side to watch the dancers and let him get his bearings.

"Tell me a bit about yourself, Casavir. The night is young, and I'd like to get to know you."

"Well," he cleared his throat nervously. "I'm a holy knight and have taken vows to uphold the cause of virtue and light."

"That's not really what I meant." Aellana chuckled at his awkward attempt at smalltalk. "Tell me about your interests, who you are as a person, not as a Paladin."

"To be honest, my lady, I've been a Paladin for so long, I hardly know who I am beyond that. I've dedicated my life to that cause. It's become so much a part of me, that I see myself as a Paladin before all else."

"Very well," she had to keep from rolling her eyes. "Tell me about your vows."

"I must pray daily, and keep a pure life, dedicated to honour and justice. I must never succumb to," his voice faltered as he looked at her then, "worldly temptations."

"When did you take your vows?"

"As a teenager officially, although I had been leading a life worthy of taking up the mantle of Paladin since I was a young child."

"So, you've never been with a woman?"

His head whipped up, taken aback by the directness of the question. She saw the colour rise in his cheeks and almost felt sorry for the poor, innocent Paladin.

"No, my vows forbid it."

"You're blushing, Casavir," she teased. "I'd almost think you consider me a 'worldly temptation'."

"My apologies, my lady," he stammered nervously. In an effort to change the subject, he simply said, "may I have this first dance?"

Aellana smiled at him, letting him lead her to the centre of the dance floor.

Casavir was an exceptional dancer. His noble upbringing was doing him credit here. They spun and twirled elegantly through the throngs of other dancers, arm in arm, gracefully stepping in perfect time to the music. A few people stopped to watch them as they made use of the floor, letting the music guide them in perfect unison. He led, she followed, dipping and spinning her with graceful abandon.

She hadn't danced like this in years, and it was wonderful to let go and let the music flow through her, losing herself in the moment and the steps. As the first dance ended they immediately surrendered themselves to another, and another, chatting casually about everything and anything, the dance acting as a social buffer for the two of them. Despite coming from vastly different cultures, their noble upbringings gave them some commonality, so conversation flowed surprisingly easily, and Aellana found that she was genuinely enjoying herself. As the latest dance came to an end, Casavir spun her round, and she laughed with joy when suddenly, he dipped her, and kissed her deeply, right there on the dancefloor. She returned it, passionately.

Casavir broke away suddenly, almost dropping her in his haste to distance himself from what he'd just done. Aellana could see the gossip starting already. The Paladin had just kissed a woman in public. Despite it being a break from his vows, the faces around were approving. Falling to the charms of a beautiful woman they could understand. Denying those charms, they could not.

Casavir had hurried to a dark corner of the ballroom for privacy, where he stood shaking and muttering to himself. Aellana approached him gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around in surprise.

"My lady, can you ever forgive me. My behaviour just now was completely unacceptable."

"There is nothing to forgive. You're a man, Casavir," she stepped toward him, closing the distance and leaning in close, "every man needs to let go once in a while."

She hovered for a second, and that was all it took. Casavir gathered her in his arms, crushing her to him. He moaned against her as she reached for his weapon belt, undoing it and letting it clatter to the floor. He kissed the swell of her breasts not bothering to stifle his groans. With wry amusement, Aellana thought that it was somehow ironic that in this situation it was Casavir who was drawing attention to them. She'd thought it was something she'd have to do herself, but he was so lost in the moment he'd completely forgotten where they were, and that his noises would surely be drawing curious spectators to their darkened corner. It was perfect. There would be just enough witnesses to engender gossip, but not enough that it would ruin him. As for her reputation? That had been destroyed the day she set foot in the Thalmor embassy. As far as Skyrim was concerned, she was a woman of loose morals. Truly her mother's daughter. 

Casavir's hands had made their way inside her bodice, where they cupped her breasts, his thumb grazing her nipples, making them hard as pearls. She pulled open his doublet lifting his shirt to hurriedly unbuckle his trousers, letting him spring free and into her waiting hands. He cried out at her touch, pushing himself against her palm, ramming her back up against the wall behind them. With barely a second thought he bundled her skirts up around her waist and gave a little squeak of surprise as he let his hands wander between her legs and realised she was completely bare!

"Take me, Casavir, I'm yours," she breathed into his ear. And he did.

He lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist as he thrust into her, once, twice then shuddered as he released. It was over in seconds, and he collapsed against her, letting her skirts tumble down as he unsheathed himself from her parted legs.

Aellana took some cloth napkins from a nearby table, handing him one to clean himself, turning away to do the same, both taking a moment to remedy their dishevelled appearances. When he'd once again buckled his sword belt, Casavir gave a choked sob, leaning his back against the wall, collapsing to the ground.

"My lady," he stammered, raising his eyes to her. "I am so ashamed. My conduct...it was unforgivable."

"Casavir, I..."

"I have dishonoured myself, and my vows. But worse still? I have dishonoured you."

"Please stop, Casavir. Sex," he physically recoiled at the word, and the pity Aellana had started to feel for him flew out the window, "yes, Casavir,  _sex_  involves more than just you. I don't need you to defend my honour. I didn't do anything I didn't want to do."

"See," Aellana's head whipped up as she recognised the voice. "I told you she didn't need anyone else to defend her honour, Cas."

"Bishop!" Casavir cried in horror. "The Dragonborn and I...we were just...."

Bishop held a hand up to silence him. "I know exactly what you were doing, Casavir. I saw the whole thing. And I'm not the only one." He gestured to a few nearby minor nobles who were gossiping behind their hands, stealing glances in their direction.

Casavir's face went pale, as he looked at Aellana, who was just as surprised to see Bishop as he was. She'd told him of her plan, but he'd still maintained he wouldn't attend the ball. Knowing what was going to happen and actually seeing it was two different things. She searched his face for any sign of anger or jealousy, but his expression remained neutral.

"Bishop, I can explain..."

"Don't bother, Casavir. I warned you that you would lose yourself to the Dragonborn. You spout out your holier-than-thou platitudes, but deep down you're just a man like the rest of us. It's time you admitted that." He turned to Aellana, hand outstretched. "Lana, may I have this dance?"

She smiled at him, full of genuine joy that he was there, and took his hand as he led her to the exact spot that she and Casavir had danced earlier. There were some surprised stares and muttering at her sudden change of partner, but she didn't care. Bishop had come for her, and she was going to enjoy this moment.

"You're the all-powerful Dragonborn, and the most beautiful woman alive. What's it like to be a living legend, straight out of a bard's dreams?"

"Don't tease me, Bishop," she said, letting him lead her around the dance floor. He wasn't as good a dancer as Casavir, but dancing with him felt safe and comfortable. Their steps were more straightforward, less elegant, but they did them in perfect unison as if they were two halves of the same body.

"I'm not," he replied simply. "That dress...I mean, wow. You are, genuinely, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." She looked up at him in surprise at that, and he gave her a wink. "Well, in this room at least."

"You don't look so bad yourself!" Bishop had done away with his regular leather armour and donned formal attire that made him look like a brand new person. His doublet was jet black, embroidered with silver threads at the shoulders. It made him look dark, handsome, and mysterious. He could have passed as a noble. His back was straight, and his bearing regal as he held her close in the dance.

"I couldn't stay away. After the embassy, I couldn't let you walk into the lion's den alone. They wouldn't let me in without the 'proper attire'. Turns out my old battle armour isn't good enough for these nobles! Who knew? Besides," he said with a wink, "it's not fair if you get to have all the fun!"

"Bishop," she started nervously, unsure how to broach the subject. "With Casavir...I hope that..."

"That was unbelievable." She looked up in surprise. That reaction was not what she'd been expecting. "Seeing you with him, but knowing you were mine? It was probably the most erotic thing I've ever experienced."

"And, am I?" Bishop looked confused. "Yours, I mean?"

"Ladyship, you know you are." He leaned down to kiss her, intensely. And she believed him.

"Unhand her at once!" Casavir was at her side in moments, grabbing Bishop roughly by the shoulder, pulling him off her, not caring if he was making a scene.

"Casavir, please. Don't make a fool of yourself."

Despite everything, Aellana still had to make sure that Casavir's reputation in Skyrim remained intact, so she tried to calm both men.

"Both of you, let's keep this private. Let's take this outside before we cause a stir."

Both men nodded and followed her out of the ballroom, their postures tight as coiled springs. They crossed the mingling throngs of partygoers in the courtyard and made their way to a secluded garden that afforded them all the privacy they needed.

Casavir rounded on Bishop as soon as they were alone, drawing his sword and holding it to Bishop's throat. Bishop barely blinked, giving Aellana an almost bored look.

"Do you wish me to cut this animal's throat my lady? It would be my pleasure."

"Absolutely not! Bishop is my companion, and I care for him very much. I will not let you hurt him."

"But, my lady," he stammered. "He disrespects you, disrespects your modesty. If you only knew him as I do, knew what he'd done, you'd know he is not to be trusted."

"I do know, Casavir. I know everything, and despite what you may think, Bishop is not responsible for Tielian's death."

Casavir looked like she'd punched him right in the gut. He went pale and sank down onto a nearby bench.

"It's over, Casavir," Bishop started. "It's time to get off your high horse. You're no better than any other man, and it's time you admitted that. You couldn't give Tielian what she needed when she begged you for it, but you were happy to take what you wanted from the Dragonborn at the first opportunity. You don't have a moral leg to stand on."

"You're right." Casavir put his head in his hands. It took a moment for Aellana to realise he was crying. "I killed Tielian her as surely as her husband did. I've carried that guilt all these years, blaming you, Bishop, because it was easier than facing the truth."

"You chose your vows over a woman that you loved. Tonight you chose lust, over your vows."

"I'm sorry, my friend. You'll never know how sorry I am." He turned to Aellana. "My lady, can you ever forgive me for how I've treated you this evening?"

"You've been a fool Casavir, but not about this evening. For me, there is nothing to forgive. The things you require forgiveness for were done years ago, and did not involve me."

"Come on, Cas," Bishop said with a world-weary sigh. "Tielian wouldn't want us to spend our lives hating each other. I think about her every day, and the part I played in her death. You're not the only one who has had to carry that."

"You do?"

"Of course I do, you stupid idiot! I may not have been in love with her, but I loved her in my way. You were my closest friend, Cas. You betrayed us both when you took your vows."

"I never even considered that. I should have told you what I had planned. I was young and foolish, and thought I had grown wiser in time." He looked at Aellana then. "Evidently not."

"Friends?" Bishop held out his hand, and after only a moment's hesitation, Casavir took it.

"Friends."

"Wanna get out of here? The ball's been great, but I don't know about the rest of you, I quite fancy getting drunk."

Casavir's vows forbade him from drinking, but after the events of the evening, he found himself not caring in the slightest. He rose with a nod.

"I'm buying."

 

* * *

 

Four ales in, and they sat around a table at the Winking Skeever, Casavir regaling them with tales from his life as a Paladin. Aellana told him all about becoming the Dragonborn, and even Bishop was in the process of sharing how he'd seduced a farmer's daughter just outside of Riften, only to discover that he'd already done the same thing to the girl's sister the year before!

They were laughing and gossiping like old friends, and it felt good to see the two men getting along once again.

"So tell me, Casavir," Bishop raised his mug of ale to the other man. "How was it?"

"How was what?"

"Your first time? You were a virgin before tonight, weren't you?"

Casavir blushed, a deep crimson, and Aellana nearly spat her ale out in amusement at the look on his face.

"It was..." he turned to Aellana quizzically, "is it always that quick?"

Bishop  _did_  spit his ale out at that, making the Paladin blush an even darker shade of crimson if such a thing were even possible.

"Umm, no," Aellana was at a loss at what to say to that. "Not exactly."

"Was it....pleasurable for you?"

Bishop was laughing silently into his ale, trying desperately not to let Casavir see. Aellana shot him a dirty look, which only made him laugh harder.

"Well, I didn't really get a chance for it to be pleasurable Casavir. I'm sorry."

"Oh," he looked crestfallen. "I see."

"I wouldn't feel too bad, Cas," Bishop clapped him on the shoulder. "No one's any good their first time. Takes practice."

"Would you..." he looked nervously between the two of them. "I mean if you were willing...?"

"Spit it out already!"

"Would you permit me to try again?"

That had not been what either of them was expecting.

"Not without me you don't!" Bishop replied quickly, putting a possessive arm around Aellana's shoulder. She smiled at him, appreciating that the show of dominance was for her sake as much as Casavir's.

"Very well," Casavir said simply. They both stared at him. "If they are your terms, then I accept them."

Aellana and Bishop looked at each other. She raised an eyebrow, he shrugged, and with that, the decision was made.

"Drink up, big shot. Let's head upstairs, and you can show us what you've got." Bishop downed his ale in one, barely waiting for them to follow.

 

* * *

 

Casavir's hands trembled as he slowly undid the black pearl buttons at the back of Aellana's dress. He trailed his fingers across her bare back as Bishop turned her around, letting Casavir see her body in full as he slid the dress down over her shoulders. His breathing shallowed as he saw her breasts for the first, remembering how they'd felt under his hands in the ballroom. He stepped forward, as she shrugged herself free from the fabric, letting his hands run gently over her skin, exploring her form. She shuddered with pleasure under his touch, and he gave her a concerned look.

"Don't stop," she whispered.

Bishop flattened himself against her back, and she felt his rising need as he kissed her neck. She leaned back into him, relishing the feel of his lips on her skin, as Casavir's hands explored her body.

His hands ghosted across her breasts, teasing at her nipples as he marvelled at the way they responded to his touch. As they hardened to little peaks under his ministrations, he gave one an experimental pinch, wondering at the mewl of pleasure that escaped Aellana's lips. This was nothing like what they'd done earlier. This time he watched her, watched for every change in her behaviour, trying to work out what she liked and didn't like. He would not let his first, and possibly only, sexual experience be a disappointment.

Aellana turned to kiss Bishop deeply, giving Casavir a full view of her arched back, and perfectly round backside. He ran his hands over it, squeezing it, as he kissed her neck, just like Bishop had been doing a moment before. He let his hands trail down to the cleft between her legs, and he groaned with desire as he felt how wet she was. He lingered just a moment longer at her entrance, before gently pushing a finger deep inside her.

She gave an 'oh' of pleasure as his finger entered her, and he experimentally moved it in and out, gauging her reaction. She pushed herself against him, which he took to be a good sign, and he matched the rhythm of her hips as she bucked against him. She was getting wetter, and more slippery, so he used another finger for purchase, and as he did so, he heard her gasp an impassioned 'yes,' increasing her speed against his hand. She was tearing at Bishop's clothes, and within moments the other man was naked, just as Aellana shuddered and moaned one last time against him before pulling away and turning toward him.

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" Casavir asked as she faced him, worried that he'd hurt her somehow.

"It was perfect," Aellana breathed, her face flushed as she drew his mouth down to hers.

"That, my friend, was an orgasm." Bishop laughed at the look of surprise on Casavir's face. Who knew ruining this Paladin's self-image would turn out to be so much fun!

Aellana was slowly removing Casavir's clothes. She ran her hands and eyes over every inch of skin as it was revealed, feeling the hardened warrior's muscles beneath. His erection was already straining at his breeches, and when she finally released him from its confines, he groaned in relief. Aellana trailed a finger teasingly up his shaft, cupping him in her other hand. He already felt ready to burst, but he fought it down, intent on prolonging his pleasure as long as possible.

She kissed his chest, moving downward, and when she finally took him in her mouth, he almost screamed in pleasure. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. Her mouth was warm and soft, and she looked directly up at him as she took his length deeper and deeper, until he swore she could have swallowed him whole. And then she began to move her head up and down, and by the gods, he saw stars! It was pleasure he'd never known could exist in this world, and he was completely lost. He felt himself come close to climax when suddenly Aellana released him. She'd felt him stiffen in anticipation, and pulled away.

"Not yet, Cas. Not yet."

She turned to Bishop, giving him the same ministrations he had just received. He watched the other man, his experience and confidence showing plainly. He had his hand twisted in her hair, pushing himself deeper with each stroke of her mouth, and thrusting gently, increasing his pleasure. Aellana gripped his hips, drawing him closer, and without thinking, Casavir found that he was stroking himself as he watched bring Bishop just below the point of climax.

Releasing Bishop, Aellana beckoned Casavir forward, and as he approached, she pushed him back onto the bed. She straddled him, and as she leaned down to kiss him, he felt her breasts brush against the bare skin of his chest. He groaned in desire and flipped her over, taking a breast in his mouth, and sucking on it gently. She writhed and moaned in pleasure as he glided across her nipples with his tongue, rolling the pert beads between his lips, relishing in the way he was making her feel.

Suddenly Bishop yanked her toward the side of the bed, so her head hung back over the edge. Casavir looked up in surprise, thinking that he'd gone too far and that Bishop was going to put a stop to everything. But instead, he saw him tilt Aellana's head back in two hands, and bury himself deep in her mouth with a satisfied moan.

"Taste her," he said quietly, and it took Aellana raising her knees and spreading her legs wide for Casavir to realise what he meant.

Positioning himself between her legs, Casavir let his hands trail over her breasts, and down her stomach. She squirmed beneath him, her body jerking and shuddering in time with Bishop's length inside her mouth. He kissed her stomach, feeling the soft sheen of sweat on her skin. Moving lower he felt her body respond to his movement. She lifted her hips, almost begging him to taste her. When he finally let his tongue tease at her entrance, she moaned. The wet heat communicated her desire, and she screamed around Bishop as he slid his tongue up toward her nub. He repeated the motion, this time flicking his tongue against the little bundle of nerves. The sheer animal sound she made was all the encouragement he needed.

Bishop watched Casavir's mouth move between Aellana's legs and hardened even more if that was even possible. He found himself panting with desire as he watched the other man's tongue tease and tempt her. Casavir was learning quickly, matching his movement to Aellana's sounds of pleasure. His tongue made little circular motions against her, and she raiser her hips to give him easier access, as he increased the pace.

Casavir held her up, plunging two fingers deep inside her, and Aellana screamed. He nearly released there and then, but he fought it down. He didn't want to end this too early. He groaned as he slowed his ministrations, focusing on watching, rather than the sensation. Casavir was matching the movement of his fingers to Bishop's rhythm, and the two men matched their pace, bringing Aellana to a screaming climax. Bishop had to pull out right at the last moment. It was almost too much. Watching Aellana be brought to orgasm by another man excited him more than he had ever thought possible.

Casavir's needed release and Aellana knew it. She pushed him onto his back, and straddled him, taking him in her hand. She placed him at her entrance, eliciting a moan as she sank down onto his length, slowly, to savor the sensation. She rode him, moving her hips in a slow, steady rhythm. Casavir sat up, clutching at her back, drawing her down so he could take one of her breasts in his mouth. She arched herself toward him as he lay back down, pulling her with him, slamming into as he took over, setting the pace.

Bishop moved behind her, grabbing her backside as it bounced in time to Casavir's thrusts. He could see the other man slamming into her again and again, and he knew that this was it. He stroked himself, preparing before aligning himself with Aellana's pucker. He waited for a moment, teasing her until she screamed.

"Oh Gods, Bishop, yes!"

And he sank himself into her. Aellana screamed in a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. Both men filled her, the feel of them moving in unison making her shudder and writhe in desire. Bishop's hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back so he could get as deep as possible, and she heard him grunt in pleasure as he slammed her again and again. Casavir was steadying her hips with his strong hands, keeping her still while they pounded her over and over. Her breathing quickened, and vision started to blur.

As she felt her climax draw near, she tightened her muscles, increasing the pressure with which both men moved inside her, and heard both of them cry out as she did. They pushed inside her, faster and faster until she felt them both release simultaneously. She let go then, cresting the wave of orgasm as both men thrust deep, spilling themselves inside her. She cried, low and animalistic, and her legs gave out from beneath her as she collapsed onto Casavir's chest.

He pulled her into an embrace, kissing her hair as she jerked and shook with little aftershocks as both men withdrew. Bishop lay down beside them both, and they cradled Aellana between them. She nestled herself against Casavir's bare body, as she tilted her head to kiss Bishop deeply and languidly. He smiled at her.

"You are an amazing woman, Aellana Evensnow," he whispered into her hair. "You are mine, and I am yours."


	28. The Pirate's Booty

    "What will you do now?" Bishop shook Casavir's hand with enthusiasm as they said their parting words just outside the Skeever.

"I'll go back and rejoin my fellow Paladins. Despite what has happened over the last few days, I still believe in the cause."

"Will there be any fallout?"

"I doubt it. I'm not the first Paladin to go against my vows, and I won't be the last. I suppose now I know that things aren't always as black and white as they appear." Unexpectedly, he embraced the Ranger fiercely, giving him a genuine smile before turning and embracing Aellana. "I have you both to thank for that."

"You're a good man, Casavir," Aellana replied. "We'll miss you. I hope our paths cross again."

The Paladin bowed deeply, "I hope so too, my lady," he said, before disappearing into the crowds of Solitude.

They watched him go, standing silently for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts. It had been a tumultuous few days and saying goodbye to Casavir seemed somehow final. Something had changed between Aellana and Bishop. It was small, and yet somehow indeterminately vast.

"Not exactly how I thought our trip to Solitude would play out," Bishop mused, turning to Aellana with a wink.

"Any regrets?"

"None." Bishop kissed her warmly, giving her a smack on the behind which she returned with a playful punch.

"Ahem," a cough interrupted them. Thaiden stood there, smirking, travel bags in hand. "Had a nice time at the ball, did we?"

"Shut up, Thaiden," Aellana said, laughing. She supposed the rumours were already flying. A bit of friendly teasing was to be expected.

"Aellana!" A panicked cry came from just by the city gates in the distance, and the three of them turned to see Frea waving frantically in their direction. Aellana and Thaiden shared a concerned glance.

Bishop waved them on, "don't worry about the packs. I'll take care of them. Go."

Frea was out of breath as they approached. Thaiden looked at her with concern, but she shrugged it off.

"I'm fine," she panted, "just out of breath."

"What's happened?" Thaiden's voice cracked, tinged with worry.

"I was in the marketplace buying supplies when I overheard a guardsman laughing about an elf with a price on his head." She turned to Aellana, "There are hitmen after Malborn!"

"Shit!" Aellana spat.

"Frea, are you sure?" Thaiden's tone was business-like but fraught with worry. None of them knew the elf well, but he had helped them in the Embassy, putting his life at considerable risk. If it weren't for Aellana's action's he'd not be in danger, and they all knew it.

"The guard's weren't exactly being subtle. They thought it was all a big joke."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"He's on the run. No idea where."

"We'll have to ask around, see if anyone knows where the elf might go." Turning to Frea, Aellana continued, "will you and Thaiden ask around the taverns and markets to see what you can find? Bishop and I will head to the docks and see if we can send word to Delphine, let her know what's going on. Maybe she can send some protection from her end. It's the least she can do."

Frea and Thaiden nodded in assent, hurrying off in the direction of the market. Aellana sighed deeply, readying herself to tell Bishop that yet another plan had gone awry.

 

* * *

 

They'd walked to the dock in awkward silence. Every time life seemed to have evened out, and the next part of their journey had seemed simple, another spanner was thrown in the works. Bishop had not responded well to the fact that they were about to track down an assassin he felt had nothing to do with them.

"Malborn knew exactly what he was getting into when he fell in with the likes of Delphine. This isn't your responsibility, Lana."

"How can you say that? He put his life on the line to keep me safe in the Embassy. You don't think I owe him?"

"You don't owe him a thing! If it hadn't been you, Delphine would have just found someone else to do the same job. He knew it would be dangerous. He took up with Delphine for his own reasons. Why can't we just let someone be responsible for themselves for a change?"

Aellana had tried to be patient, to see his point of view, but she just couldn't. Bishop saw everything in simple terms. He was so black and white. He didn't see that her actions had consequences, and while she wasn't responsible for the results of Malborn's choices, she was responsible for the effects of her own. Bishop was a good man, but she felt that he'd had very few moments in his life where he'd been forced to own up to the consequences of any of his decisions. On this, they would simply have to agree to disagree.

Flagging down a messenger, Aellana quickly scribbled a note to be delivered to the proprietor of The Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, handed the man some extra coins to ensure his haste, and thanked him as he hurried away. Bishop just shook his head as he watched her part with her money, muttering something under his breath which she tried her best to ignore.

She turned away from him and began the walk back to Solitude in silence. If Bishop was going to act like a child, then she'd treat him like one! He hurried after her, acting huffier and huffier as she refused to give him the attention that he so desired. In any other circumstances, she would have found it amusing, but his churlish behaviour was starting to try her patience.

A sudden crash rang out, and Bishop nearly tripped over a cascade of empty bottles that came rolling down the path toward his feet.

"Hey!" he called out in irritation, looking around wildly to find the culprit.

A few steps up the path a man emerged from behind a stack of crates, blinking in the bright sunlight and looking around with a confused expression on his face. As they watched, he started rummaging through one of the nearby crates, lifting bottle after bottle to his eye, squinting into the dark green glass then shaking his head and throwing them onto the path. The walkway was becoming more and more congested with empty bottles that kept threatening to roll down the track into the waters below.

"What are you doing?" Aellana was utterly bewildered by the man's behaviour.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the man replied, his voice muffled by the fact he'd not even bothered to remove his head from where it was buried deep in the nearest crate. "I'm looking for the rum. Unless you've got any, we have no further business."

"Well, you heard the man," Bishop tried to steer Aellana clear of the obviously drunk sailor, but she was still angry with him, and she wasn't going to let him take charge of the situation like that. She pulled her arm free of his grip and walked toward the man.

"I'm light on rum, but maybe I can help you get home?"

Aellana almost heard Bishop's eyes rolling round in his skull as he threw his hands up at her in exasperation.

"Seriously, Lana? Do we have to stop to help every stray we come across?"

She ignored him as the man finally lifted his head from the crate and turned to them. At first, his face was a mask of irritation, but when he caught sight of Aellana his face changed, the frown replaced with a smirk, and his confronting stance immediately softening to one of casual abandon. In fact, his demeanour changed so rapidly he nearly tripped over his own feet, and she couldn't help but giggle at him, which he took to mean she was being coquettish.

"Well, who are  _you_?" the man drawled, looking her over from head to toe. "Come closer beautiful, I think I would have remembered seeing  _you_  around."

"She's the very busy Dragonborn. And it was a pleasure to meet you," Bishop once again tried to steer Aellana away, and this time he earned himself a steely glare.

"I can speak for myself, thank you, Bishop," she ground out. That just earned her a dismissive shrug which only served to make her even angrier.

"Shut up!" The man leaning on the crates barked with laughter. "You? This tiny, wisp of a thing has the power to Shout a man to pieces?"

"Do you want a demonstration?" She was losing patience with both men now, and it must have shown.

"No, no, I'm sorry, lass." He tried to stumble over to her and nearly tripped over a bottle. "I'm Jack. Captain Jack," he attempted to bow, and nearly toppled over, "at your service."

"Aellana Evensnow, and this is Bishop." Bishop just grunted, but Jack didn't seem to mind, taking Aellana's hand and pumping it with enthusiasm.

"I've got myself in a bit of a pickle, lass. I'm here, there's no rum, and to be quite honest, I have absolutely no idea where 'here' is."

"We're at the Solitude docks."

"You don't say! Well, I've woken up in the right city which is always a plus. You don't happen to know where my ship is, do you? It seems I might have.... indulged a bit last night."

Indulged was right. The man smelled like a brewery, his eyes glassy with a sheen of sweat on his brow which told Aellana this man wasn't just hung over, he was still completely, and utterly drunk.

She turned to Bishop, who shook his head as if to say 'don't ask me.'

"How on earth do you lose a whole ship? These are the only docks in Solitude. Surely it's right here!"

"Ahh, I see the lass has brains as well as beauty! In that case, would you escort me to my vessel?" Jack lurched forward, catching at her arm to steady himself (although Aellana did notice he seemed to catch himself just in time to give himself a full view down the front of her white, cotton shirt which she had left open at the top as the day was warm). "I'm in a vulnerable state, as you can see. Wouldn't want any of my lads to take advantage of their indisposed captain now, would we?"

"No, I'm sure you wouldn't." She motioned for Bishop to come and help her with Jack's weight. Gratefully he only hesitated a moment before coming to her aid. She wasn't sure how far she'd get with the bulky sailor hanging off her arm if she'd had to do it alone.

"When we get back to my ship I'll be happy to show you the captain's cabin!"

"I'm sure you would," growled Bishop, "but that's not going to happen."

"Don't worry," Jack spoke slowly and deliberately as if getting his words out was an effort. "I'll be sure to give the lass the safety demonstration. In the unlikely event of my cabin losing pressure, grab the person nearest to you, placing him," he glared at Bishop, "or her firmly over your nose and mouth, and breathe normally." Jack lurched, grabbing Aellana quickly by the face and planting a wet, alcohol soaked kiss directly on her lips. Or she supposed it was meant to be a kiss. It landed short of its intended target and ended up just leaving a sticky, alcoholic residue that spread to her left cheek as Jack pulled back and began to laugh. "Ah, I slay me."

Aellana looked over at Bishop who was trying very hard to stifle his giggles.

"Come on then, Captain," he drawled with a sigh. "Let's get you back to your ship."

They struggled down the wooden stairs of the dock, the large sailor's inebriated steps bouncing as he hung from them like a dead weight.

"So what do you think then, lass, you want to steer my boat?"

"You're going to need a bigger rudder," Bishop countered without missing a beat.

"Yeah well, I'm drunk! I could be taken advantage of by anyone, so I deserve a bit of leeway." Jack leaned in a little closer, resting heavily on Aellana shoulder. "Anything could happen. You seem nice, but I could get back to my ship only to find that you want to tie me up, and use me!" He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "please, I wouldn't mind!"

"I'm sure Bishop would be happy to oblige, wouldn't you Bish?"

Jack looked aghast at the suggestion, but Bishop laughed heartily.

"You're a man after my own heart, Jack. Only we both know it wouldn't be me getting tied up, would it Princess?"

"You don't need this landlubbing oaf. Sail away with me, Dragonborn."

"There isn't enough wind in your sails, Jack. And I wouldn't go anywhere without Bishop."

For the first time, Jack turned to Bishop and took him in, letting his head roll up and down in what Aellana supposed was an approximation of consideration.

"Well, he certainly looks like he can handle a sword. Handy enough chap to have around, I suppose?"

"She doesn't need me for that. You have no idea Jack, this woman can handle a sword like no one else. Both one, and two-handed."

Both Aellana and Bishop were trying desperately to keep their laughter in check as the innuendo seemed to fly straight over Jacks' head. By this point, they'd reached a large wooden galley. The desperately waving sailors from the deck made them sure they'd found the right ship.

"Aellana!" Frea's voice rang out from the top of the hill. She was once again waving her over.

"Go," Bishop sighed. "I'll take care of the Captain here. Go, see what she wants. Come get me here when you're ready."

Aellana divested herself of Jack's weight and hurried to her friend.

"Wanna get drunk?" Jack leaned heavily against Bishop as the other man staggered the rest of the way to the waiting ship.

"Drunker? I think you mean drunker." Bishop looked over to where he could see Aellana speaking animatedly with Frea. "You know what? Fuck it. Let's do that."

 

* * *

 

Frea and Thaiden had been thorough in their search, and they'd discovered where Malborn would most likely be headed. He still had friends in Windhelm, and it was the logical place he'd go for help. Aellana had spent the rest of the afternoon getting all their belongings together, renting their rooms at the Winking Skeever for one more night, and booking passage to Windhelm for the next morning. The sun was already setting when she finally made her way back to the docks where Jack's ship was moored, the sounds of laughter and music flowing down from the decks above.

The sailors aboard had been expecting her, and welcomed her with open and friendly smiles, cryptically apologising for their captain, but refusing to elaborate. But, as they approached the stateroom that was the captain's quarters, she could already hear laughter, and she suddenly knew what she'd find.

As expected, when the sailor opened the door, Jack and Bishop were sat opposite each other by a sturdy wooden table, empty bottles, and tumblers strewn about them. Bishop was giggling like a little school girl as Jack finished his story.

"...and as I looked around, it dawned on me that nature," he hiccupped, "nature is just grand! At that moment it reminded me of a high elf I had once. I nearly yelled 'timberrrr' as she fell into my bed!"

Bishop doubled over with laughter, giving Aellana a friendly wave.

"Come in, lass, come into my cabin!" Jack waved her over, patting an empty chair beside him and pouring her a generous measure of rum from one of the many bottles still on the table. Bishop shook his head at him playfully, and Jack put his hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Did you see how he just leered at us? Like we were a couple of pieces of horker meat!"

Aellana giggled, accepting the drink graciously.

"No, you're far more appetising to me than that," Bishop replied, a wicked glint in his eye.

"Well thanks, lad!"

"Not you, her!"

"We'll see how she feels after she's seen my Jolly Roger!"

"If the size of your ship is anything to go by, I'm sure she'll be disappointed."

"Ah, lad, it's not the size of the boat, it's all about the oars you're steering with, thank you."

"Well, if you steer her oars anywhere toward your rudder, you and me will have words."

Jack gave Bishop a friendly slap on the back. "You're a good sport, lad. A good sport."

"You're not too bad yourself, captain." Bishop slurred his words dangerously, and it was only now that Aellana realised just how drunk the Ranger actually was. Frea and Thaiden had already turned in for the night, so she was alone. Getting him back to the Skeever if he had any more to drink would be more and more difficult, so she downed her own rum in one, beckoning to Bishop that it was time to go.

"Leaving so soon, lass?"

"Afraid so, Jack. You're not the only lost soul I have to save today."

He waved them away with a wink, and Jack's first mate kindly helped them disembark without too much hassle, sending two of his sailor's with them to make sure they got back to the Skeever in one piece. Aellana was grateful. She hadn't relished the thought of getting a swaying and stumbling Bishop back to the Inn on her own.

Bishop leaned heavily on Aellana's arm as she unlocked the door to their room, stumbling in as soon as the door had given. When it was safely closed, Bishop turned to her with a stern expression on his face.

"Sometimes, ladyship, I really do have to question your intelligence."

"Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow in his direction, hoping he was going to follow this by something good.

"Not only do you help every helpless adult, child...puppy...in Skyrim, but you stumble on some random drunk down by the docks and think, 'sure, let's go with him!'?"

She hated to admit that, in this instance, he was right. She did see the irony in Jack's sailors having to help Bishop home when they'd started the day doing the same thing for Jack. In hindsight, it was obvious that Jack had nothing to fear from his sailors. They'd probably known where to find him the whole time. Really, the entire exercise had been an attempt to have someone new to drink with and, Aellana suspected, have a chance to hit on someone who wasn't being paid for the privilege.

"Come on, Bishop. You're drunk."

"Yes, I am. And you, princess, look like a  _very_  comfy place to lay my head."

"Well, let's get you out of your leathers then, and into bed." Bishop looked like a kid in a candy store at that, and Aellana just laughed at the look of boyish glee that crossed his features.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Bishop leaned down conspiratorially, as Aellana humoured him with a nod. "I think that guy, what was his name? Bob? Joe? No, Jack! Jackass! Well, I think he may have been a pirate. And for a pirate, his rum was  _awful_!"

Aellana had to agree. She'd only had the one, but she suspected it was contraband moonshine being smuggled between cities. It had tasted like paint stripper mixed with turpentine, and she didn't envy Bishop the hangover he would have in the morning.

Bishop stumbled backward as he swayed dangerously on his feet. He slumped to the ground, hitting his head on the bedpost behind him, leaving him temporarily dazed.

"Shit, Bish. Can you hear me?" He didn't respond immediately, so she slapped him gently across the face to snap him out of it. In a few moments, his eyes focused again, and she held up two fingers, hoping to the gods he didn't have a concussion. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Not enough," he slurred out, "and definitely in the wrong place."

"I'll take that as you saying you're fine." She stood up, hooking her arms under Bishop's to try and hoist him back up. His face ended up wedged against her breasts as she struggled with his weight, and he started to giggle. Gods, it was like looking after a toddler!

When she finally got him up and sat him on the edge of the bed she couldn't help but notice a familiar bulge in his breeches.

"Is that a dagger in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" She winked at him, attempting to inject some humour into the situation, but he just stared at her like she was daft.

"What are you on about, woman? That's my penis. Not a dagger." He said it with so much gravitas that Aellana lost it. She started laughing and couldn't stop. "Wait..." she saw realisation dawn on the drunk Ranger's face, which only sent her into more fits of laughter. "You were actually trying to seduce me! Well, I don't blame you, it's my animal magnetism." He jiggled his eyebrows up and down in what his drunk brain thought was a seductive manner.

"Animal magnetism, is it?"

"Certainly is, or my middle name isn't Florence!"

"Your..."

"I mean Lawrence!"

Aellana's laughter increased threefold, and she couldn't stop. She laughed so hard she could barely breathe, only stopping when she saw the look of hurt that flashed in Bishop's eyes.

"Sorry, but I didn't even know you had a middle name!"

"My parents had a debt, alright. Some damn tights-wearing noble did them a favour, and they promised to name their firstborn after him or some nonsense. So, yeah, my middle name is Lawrence."

"All right, Lawrence, let's get you into bed." Bishop pouted at her as she removed his clothes, and like a child tucked him under the covers before climbing in next to him. By the time she'd lain down, Bishop was fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

Aellana woke up with the dawn, to hear Bishop groaning as he got himself up, out of bed.

"Why are you awake so early, Bish, go back to sleep!"

"Shit, you haven't killed me yet, so yesterday can't have been as bad as my hangover suggests."

"Don't worry...Florence...you were a perfect gentleman."

The look on Bishop's face was priceless. The colour drained from his cheeks, and his lips flapped soundlessly like a fish gasping out of water.

"What? No, it's Laur...!" Then realisation dawned. "Shit, I didn't tell you that, did I?" Aellana nodded, grinning. "Oh gods, I must have been drunker than I thought if I told you  _that_."

"The things I could learn from you after a drink or two! We should make this a regular thing."

"How about...did we...did anything happen?" Bishop was still terrified of how he'd act alone with Aellana when he wasn't in control of his faculties. He still had nightmares about that last dragon attack. The way she made him feel, he didn't know if he could control himself, and he had to know that nothing had happened between them.

"You missed your chance, Ranger. You were dead to the world." She moved closer to him, letting her eyelids fall seductively. She loosened the top button of her shirt, giving Bishop a glimpse at the soft rise and fall of her breasts as she stepped toward him. "Care to try again?"

Bishop groaned, feeling his body respond immediately. "You minx. Don't you know it's cruel to play with a wounded man?" He moved toward her, but then shook his head to clear it. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. But right now, my head feels like it's about to split open."

Aellana laughed, a tinkling sound that brought joy to Bishop's heart whenever he heard it. "Don't worry Ranger, you won't have to do a thing. Just stand back, and watch."

And he did, his eyes widening as Aellana let the loose shirt slip off her shoulders, and she fell back on the bed. As her hand moved to the cleft between her legs, he counted himself the luckiest man in the world. That this woman was his, and in his bed...he didn't believe in the gods, but if he did, he'd be thanking them on his knees right now.


	29. What Money Can Buy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long between updates! I really struggled with this chapter. I have five different drafts that all ended up on the discard pile before I finally settled on this version. Hope you're all still with me. Aellana and Bishop still have a long journey ahead! :)

    They filed into Candlehearth Hall, road weary and covered in dust from the journey. They’d barely stopped on the way to Windhelm, bumping along the rough roads in the back of the hay cart they’d chartered. The farmer had produce to deliver in the area anyway and had agreed to take the four of them along for a substantial sum. The days of driving had been long, and even the farmer had only managed a few hours sleep a night for which he had been well compensated.

    “You look even worse than when they brought you in, half drowned!”

    Aellana turned, smiling genuinely as she embraced Elda Early-Dawn, Candlehearth Hall’s proprietor, who gave her a matronly pat on the arm.

    “It’s good to see you.”

    “And you.” Elda turned to Bishop, Thaiden, and Frea, giving them a welcoming smile. “I’ve heard rumours about the four of you.”

    “I’m sure you have.”

    “Some say you’re the Dragonborn?”

    Aellana shuffled with embarrassment, “so it would seem.”

    They made idle conversation as Elda organised rooms, giving Aellana a raised eyebrow when she only asked for two. Rumours or not, an Evensnow publicly sharing a room with a Ranger who was already developing a reputation of his own was sure to turn a few heads.

    “So, what brings you back to Windhelm?”

    “We’re tracking an assassin,” Bishop said bluntly.

    “Are you in danger?”

    “Not us,” Frea reassured the older woman who had suddenly looked panicked. “A friend of ours.”

    Aellana leaned in so as not to be overheard.

    “He’s Bosmer.”

    Elves were not well regarded in Windhelm, and she didn’t want to draw undue attention to Malborn in case it put him in more danger than he was already in.

    “You won’t find any elves in Candlehearth Hall.” Bishop opened his mouth to say something, his face clouding in anger, but Elda raised a hand to stop him. “I’ve never forbidden anyone from entering my establishment. I have no specific quarrel with them. Most choose to stay away. It’s a big place, and I’m only one woman. I can’t control every guest, and I’ve a business to run. People here distrust the Dunmer, and as a consequence, distrust most elves. Myself included.”

    Bishop looked like he had more to say on the subject, but Frea placed a comforting hand on his arm and, to Aellana’s surprise, he nodded at her, relaxing his stance, inclining his head at Elda in acceptance of her words.

    “Do you know where I’m likely to find him?”

    “Head to the Grey Quarter. There’s a tavern there called the New Gnisis Cornerclub. That’s where the elves drink.”

 

* * *

 

 

    The Club fell silent as they entered. There were a few scattered Nord about, but the patrons were overwhelmingly Dunmer who stared at them warily. Aellana tried to give the bartender her most charming smile, but he just stared at her with hostility, and she felt her face go slack as she giggled nervously.

    Bishop, on the other hand, walked in as if he owned the place. He sat himself down at the bar and ordered four ales. Bishop’s confidence did the trick, and within moments he and the bartender were chatting and laughing like old friends as the conversation in the tavern started up again. He seemed at home here, comfortable in surroundings that made Aellana nervous. It really highlighted their differences, and she suddenly felt shame at the sheltered, privileged upbringing she’d had. It was like she saw Bishop through new eyes.

    Bishop turned to her, patting the barstool beside him, rolling his eyes as she hesitated. She felt her cheeks flush, and she hurried over, almost stumbling in her haste to sit down.

    “Drink up.”

    The bartender placed a frothing mug of ale on the bar in front of her. She drank deeply, hoping the brew would assuage her nerves, and before she knew it, half the flagon had been drained. The Dunmer watched her in surprise, and when she finally came up for air, he let out a deep throated laugh.

    “Now that, my friend,” he clapped Bishop on the shoulder in approval, “is a woman!”

    Aellana’s cheeks flamed crimson, but despite her embarrassment, the unladylike drinking seemed to have done the trick. Any social awkwardness seemed to have dissipated, and as Frea and Thaiden sat down to join them, it felt like the tavern had accepted them.

    “We’re looking for someone,” Bishop called the bartender over. He immediately looked wary but approached anyway.

    “Tell me what you want with them, and then I’ll decide whether I can help.”

    “There’s a Bosmer who goes by the name of Malborn. He recently helped us out with a little...problem...and we believe he may be in danger because of it. We’ve come to help.”

    The bartender went stiff. It was clear he knew who Malborn was, and more importantly where he was. He shook his head at them. “I don’t think I can help you.”

    “Please,” Aellana reached out and grabbed his wrist as he began to turn away. He glared at her, and she quickly released him with a muttered apology. “Please, he saved me from a very bad man. I owe him. Let me help him.”

    The bartender looked her up and down, his brow creased in thought. “Are you the Dragonborn?”

    “Yes,” she replied with a sigh.

    “Then come with me.”

    He led them upstairs, and there, to Aellana’s relief was Malborn.

    “Dragonborn!” he cried in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

    “You’re in danger. We came to help.”

    He nodded, “I know. There’s a Khajit assassin after me. Erevvus is an old friend,” he gestured to the bartender who inclined his head in acknowledgment, “and he agreed to smuggle me into Morrowind to escape the Thalmor. The assassin has made that a little difficult. I’ve been hiding here trying to work out my next move.”

    “Tell us everything you know.”

    Erevvus excused himself, wary of drawing attention to the group by his notable absence from the tavern downstairs, and Malborn gestured for them all to take a seat.

    Delphine had intercepted a communication from the Thalmor which had warned of the assassination attempt. He’d come straight to the Grey Quarter and hidden in the Club. There were already rumours flying, however, that the assassin knew where he was, so he’d made arrangements to move to a safe-house elsewhere in the city to avoid detection.

    “I’ll be at the..,” Aellana held her hand up to silence him.

    “We’ll do what we can, and send word of our progress to Erevvus. It’s best if we don’t know where you are, and don’t tell anyone other than him. We don’t know who to trust. This is the Grey Quarter, and any Dunmer here could prove to be a Thalmor spy.”

    Malborn nodded in assent, and they bid him farewell.

 

* * *

 

Less than an hour later they were back in Candlehearth Hall sending word to Erevvus that the Assassin was dead. They’d gone to a Khajit caravan just outside the city, and the two men they’d spoken to had been only too ready to point the finger at a potential Thalmor assassin in their midst. Bishop had pickpocketed at Khajit named J'datharr. A note had confirmed that he’d been hired by the Thalmor to assassinate potential members of the Blades. Frea had lured him away from the camp, and they’d dispatched him with very little fuss. It had been too easy. Almost anti-climactic.

    It was the first time that Aellana had outright killed someone. This time it wasn’t self-defence, and she was surprised to realise how little it had affected her. She’d noticed Thaiden giving her concerned glances, apparently expecting her to fall apart, but in truth, she felt nothing. She’d done what she had to do to protect a friend. If there was anything these past months had taught her, it was that you either killed or were killed. She would never take the life of an innocent, that she knew, but these were strange times, and she felt confident in her decisions. If she was forced to be the Dragonborn, then she had to embrace everything that it meant. And to her, it meant protecting those less able to protect themselves. J'datharr had preyed on the weak for pay. That was unconscionable, and she was glad he was dead.

    Frea and Thaiden had gone to find them a table while Bishop and Aellana organised a courier to send word to Erevvus. They had offered to help Malborn to the Morrowind border that evening, and would have to wait for confirmation.

    “Aellana!” Frea was hurrying over to them, and she felt a moment of panic before she saw Frea's face. She was laughing! “You have _got_ to come and listen to this!”

    Before she knew it, she was being bundled upstairs while Frea could barely contain her laughter. Around the hearth, from which Candlehearth Hall drew its name, stood a small crowd of people listening to a bard recite something. Thaiden waved them over, his eyes glinting with mirth, gesturing for them to sit at the table he’d procured. The man finished his recitation, and the crowd gave a small smattering of applause while Aellana looked at Thaiden and Frea in confusion.

    “What...”

    Frea interrupted her with a giggle, and Thaiden held up his hand.

    “Just wait.”

    So she did, and within moments the bard had started his next poem.

     _“Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart._

     _I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.”_

    Aellana groaned audibly. “By the Gods, please tell me this is a joke.”

     _“With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art,_

     _Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.”_

    “A warrior’s heart, huh?” Aellana flushed crimson as Bishop joined them at the table. “Never been described as a warrior before.”

    “What makes you think they’re singing about you, Bishop,” Frea said teasingly. He shot her a pointed look, and once again, she fell into fits of giggles.

     _“It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes._

     _Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes._

     _For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows,_

     _You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborn’s come.”_

    Bishop leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in her ear, “I certainly know when the Dragonborn has come.”

    Thaiden spat out his ale, which earned him a wink from Bishop. At that moment Aellana wished that the ground would swallow her whole.

    The applause this time was much more enthusiastic as the young bard took a bow.

    “Thank you,” he turned, taking in the whole room with a sweeping gesture. “Thank you one and all, you are most kind.”

    People were handing him coins in thanks for his recitation, and Thaiden dragged Aellana out of her seat.

    “He’s done three Dragonborn themed poems in a row. It’s only right you thank him for the great PR.” With a laugh, he gave her a shove forward, knocking her into the woman in front. She muttered an apology, glaring at Thaiden who stood beside her, gesturing with encouragement. She looked back at the table where Frea couldn’t even meet her eye, her whole body shaking with laughter, while Bishop just shrugged and looked vaguely bored.

    The way to the bard was clear, and Thaiden once again pushed her forward. The man looked at her expectantly, but Aellana found she was lost for words.

    “Yourpoemwasnice,” she all but shouted, stumbling over her words, while the bard stared at her in confusion. He was in his early 20’s, handsome, with high cheekbones and a perfectly groomed beard. His eyes laughed at her discomfort. _He knows he’s handsome_ , she realised. He thought she was speechless because she found him attractive, so she squared her shoulders and forced the embarrassment to the back of her mind.

    “I’m glad you appreciate good art, my lady,” he drawled in his sing-song voice, bowing low, and taking her hand to place a kiss on her palm.

    “It wasn’t the poem so much as the content,” she replied, her voice now steady.

    “The Dragonborn is a worthy subject. I’ve heard so much about her.” His face took on a sycophantic air as he began to recount the Dragonborn’s many virtues. “How I’d love to meet a woman like that. A true warrior, fierce, imposing, strong, regal.”

    “Is that right?” Thaiden was nodding beside her, his voice dripping with barely disguised sarcasm.

    “Thaiden...” Aellana growled in warning, but he completely ignored her.

    “You do know that you have the honour of addressing the Dragonborn herself?”

    The bard stopped dead, his eyes widening in shock as he looked Aellana up and down. She would never get used the scrutiny.

    “You? The Dragonborn?”

    She waited for the inevitable disappointment when he realised she wasn’t the fierce warrior he had been imagining. Instead of the larger than life Amazonian fighter he’d had in his head, here she stood, a tiny half-Breton who looked like she was better suited to needlework than fighting.

    “I’m afraid so,” she sighed.

    To her surprise, the man dropped to a knee in front of her, taking her hands in his own. “Forgive me, my lady. I never thought to have the honour of speaking with the Dragonborn.”

    “It’s...fine,” she replied awkwardly, looking around the room to see how many people were actually witnessing this. Luckily most of the patrons had gone back to their drinks, and they were largely ignored. Except for Frea and Bishop who had gone utterly red-faced with laughter, witnessing her embarrassment.

    “By the Divines!” the bard stood, pumping her hands up and down enthusiastically. “It is a delight to be standing in your presence.” He turned to the patrons still gathered around the hearth and at the top of his lungs announced, “Today, we witness a living legend among us. Here stands none other than the Dragonborn herself!”

    The room went silent, and all eyes were on Aellana and the bard. She waved half-heartedly at the crowd, who smiled at her gently, “Hi.”

     _“Our hero, our hero indeed who claims **this** warrior’s heart. _

     _I told you, I told you, and the Dragonborn **came**!”_

    “Oh Gods,” Aellana groaned. “I am going to kill you for this, Thaiden.” But Thaiden couldn’t reply. He was laughing so hard that he had stumbled back to the table to sit down, burying his head in his arms, his whole body shaking. Aellana followed him, glaring daggers.

    “Where are you going?” the bard followed closely, sticking to her heels like a lost puppy.

    “This living legend needs a drink. Or three.”

    “Let me buy you one!” He waved a server over and ordered drinks for Aellana and himself, joining them at their table with no invitation. He sat down, his back to Bishop.

    “Do you mind?” Bishop ground out. But the bard just ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken.

    “My name is Alec. They call me the Prince of Song. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

    “No, Alec, no one has heard of you.” Bishop’s voice dripped with venom, but Alec continued to ignore him completely. Aellana saw his eyes darken in anger, and hoped he’d be able to keep his temper in check just long enough for her to extract herself from this supremely uncomfortable situation.

    “I’ve spent so much time studying your exploits for my poems. From your discoveries at Helgen to your endless eradication of the Dragon menace. You’re not at all what I pictured. You are so, so much more. You’re our hero. Your strength and humility bring hope to every heart in Skyrim. To my heart. We bards sing songs about you so that our children’s children will remember your legacy. But no bard has ever before sung of your beauty.”

    “Umm...thank you?” She stole a look at Bishop who had gone completely silent and still, and she shot him an apologetic look.

    “I speak only the truth. You are truly inspiring, a beautiful muse to inspire the heart of a poet.”

    “She’s certainly inspired me,” Frea interjected, smiling at Aellana kindly. Aellana was touched.

    “I’m sorry,” Aellana realised her rudeness. “These are my companions, Frea, Thaiden, and Bishop.”

    He turned to Frea and Thaiden, warmly shaking their hands refusing to face Bishop.

    “I had heard that the Dragonborn travelled with a savage.”

    “Say that to my face,” Bishop growled.

    “I’m sorry to have to offend you, my lady, but are you sure you should be seen with a man like that? I’ve heard rumours, and he does nothing to further the reputation deserving of a Dragonborn.”

    “If he’s such a savage, then perhaps you should be more careful what you say in front of him...and me.” Aellana shot him a warning glance, letting her hands crackle with electricity, setting everyone’s hair on end. Not only were Alec’s words offensive to Bishop, but they also suggested that she had no agency over her own actions.

    “My apologies my lady. Let me make it up to you. I have organised a special performance tonight, here in Windhelm, where I’ll be reciting my very own Saga of the Dragonborn. You and your friends are welcome, as my guests of honour!”

    As Alec spoke, a young man approached the table and whispered something to Thaiden, passing him a small note that he glanced at. He nodded thanks to the man and turned to Alec.

    “We would be delighted to attend!”

    “We would?” Bishop and Aellana asked simultaneously, turning toward him.

    “We would.”

    Alec turned to Aellana and whispered, “Is there any way I can convince you not to bring the savage?”

    “Where I go, he goes,” she whispered back.

    “I am so pleased!” Alec rose with exaggerated enthusiasm, shaking Thaiden’s hand. He turned to Aellana, bowing low and once again, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. “I will see you at the palace tonight, my muse.”

    When he was finally gone, Bishop turned to Thaiden in anger.

    “What the hell, Thaiden!”

    “Sorry, I know that was awkward, but here.” He passed the scrap of paper that the server had brought around the table. “We’ll be meeting Ervvus and Malborn at the new safe-house after midnight. Alec has just announced to everyone that the Dragonborn is here. If we attend the performance, it makes it look like that’s what we’re here for. Stops people asking too many questions. I thought it was the safest option.”

    They all nodded their heads in agreement. It made sense. If people started snooping around asking why the Dragonborn was here it could put Malborn right back in the line of fire. Especially if they discovered the dead assassin before he had a chance to flee the city.

    “Thaiden and I are going to make arrangements for getting Malborn safely out of the city.” Frea was already hurrying Thaiden to finish his ale. “I think it’s best if you stay here in the inn with Bishop. No one knows who we are so we can make plans without anyone getting suspicious. Now that you’re famous in the city it’s best if you’re not involved in any organising.”

    Aellana nodded in assent. Wherever she went now, eyes were sure to be on her. She hated feeling useless, but the most useful thing she could do at the moment was staying out of the way.

    When Thaiden and Frea had taken their leave, she finally turned to Bishop, who was looking at her sulkily.

    “So...that Alec was certainly a character, huh?”

    “Arrogant bard. I can’t believe anyone pays money to listen to his squawking.”

    “You’re just jealous,” Aellana teased in an effort to lighten the mood. “I’d like to hear you try to sing or recite poetry. Don’t judge until you’ve tried it.”

    “Jealous am I, ladyship?” Bishop leaned in close, breathing so close to her ear it set every nerve ablaze. “Are you offering to give me lessons? Because I think I could get you to hit the high notes first.”

    Her mouth felt suddenly dry, and instead of a response, she just squeaked hopelessly. Bishop leaned back and laughed.

    “To be honest, I’d sing about you myself if it got him to shut up!”

    “Bishop, can’t you ever just play nice?”

    “Oh, I can ‘play.’ But nice? That’s another matter.”

    Aellana leaned toward him, “is that a promise?”

    “Nice isn’t in my vocabulary, ladyship.” And before she could protest, his mouth had enveloped hers, and she was lost.

 

* * *

 

The castle was lit with torches, the velvet hangings keeping the foyer warm as they mingled with the others waiting for the performance to start. Servers weaved their way through the pressing throngs, and Aellana watched Bishop as he downed his third mug of ale.

    “Don’t you think you should slow down, Bish?”

    “Absolutely not,” he groused. “There isn’t enough mead in all of Skyrim to make me ready to endure this shit.”

    “Come on Bishop,” Thaiden appeared beside them, clapping Bishop on the back companionably. “The man’s an ass, we all know it. Let’s just get through tonight so we can leave this frozen city far behind.”

    He shrugged, “well, at least the booze is free.” He stalked off in search of another server, and Aellana sighed after him. His mood had become fouler and fouler as the evening approached, and to be honest, she was getting a little tired of Bishop's petulant attitude.

    “You ok?” Frea asked gently.

    “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wish he’d grow up sometimes.”

    “He’s volatile, that’s for sure.” Thaiden gave Aellana an appraising glance. “So, you two. Is it serious?”

    Aellana was taken aback by the question. She wasn’t even sure she knew the answer. Was it serious, or was it merely a lust-fuelled dalliance? She knew she cared about him, and at times it seemed like he cared about her. But at other times it felt like they were just driven by their desires, and that wasn’t a sustainable platform for anything long term. Between the dragons and his constant flirtatious jokes, it was difficult to tell what was real, and what was just a bit of fun.

    “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “We have something, but it’s nothing like what you two share.”

    Thaiden and Frea smiled at each other, their hands joined as Thaiden leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. Aellana smiled to herself. That her best friend in the whole world had found such happiness brought her more joy than she could ever express.

    “Who knows,” Frea embraced her, pausing briefly to speak in a low voice, “it may be more than either of you think.”

    Before Aellana could dwell on that, the doors to the theatre opened and the crowd surged forward in an attempt to grab the best seats available before they were all filled. As they entered, an usher waved them forward pointing out the places that Alec had reserved for them.

    “Please, no,” she groaned when she saw where they would be seated. The theatre was filled with row upon row of garland bedecked benches. But right at the front stood four, high-backed, throne-like, gilded chairs. A red carpet spread from the door, down the aisle between the benches, fanning out into a red sea that drew the eye to where they would be sitting. Every eye in the room would be drawn to them as much as to the performer, and Aellana wished she’d never come.

    As they made their way down the aisle, conversation stopped, and the air was filled with curious whispers. When they finally took their seats, Aellana made herself as small as she possibly could, hoping that the large chair would hide her from prying eyes. To her surprise, Bishop reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

    “I actually think you might be hating this more than me,” he whispered, and Aellana couldn’t even speak through the wave of gratitude that filled her.

    The room echoed with gentle applause as Alec took to the stage. He bowed deeply, a natural showman.

    “Good evening, Windhelm. May I thank you all for venturing out on this cold, wintry night to witness I, the one and only, Alec, Prince of Song.”

    The room erupted in thunderous applause, but she heard Bishop whisper the word “jackass” under his breath.

    Alec raised a hand and the room fell silent once again.

    “I would like to dedicate tonight's performance to someone very special to me.” He looked to where Aellana was sitting, and the eyes of the crowd followed him. “She is the most inspiring, beautiful woman I have ever met, and I have a song in my heart that I must sing to her.”

    The song began, and Aellana nearly gasped as Alec’s voice rang out loud and clear across the auditorium. His voice was gentle and melodic, and the song he sang was an achingly beautiful ballad about love and loss. She was so lost in it she completely forgot that it was a love song being sung to her by another man. Unconsciously she placed her hand in Bishop’s and leaned on his shoulder. Caught in the same spell, he bent his face, placing his cheek against the top of her head, planting a kiss on her hair. When it ended and the applause once again rang out they both sat up in surprise, remembering where they were.

    The rest of the performance flew by. Despite his arrogance, Alec was an incredible performer. He mixed poetry and song in a seamless blend. The whole evening’s programme was Dragonborn inspired, but the tales of heroics sounded so outlandish that Aellana found herself able to remove herself from the situation and appreciate his art for what it was. Fiction. In this story, she wasn’t the Dragonborn. It held very little reality for her, and she felt like she could enjoy the evening as nothing more than a spectator.

    As the performance ended, Alec bowed and made his way into the auditorium to mingle with the crowds. It was nearing midnight and they would have to take their leave, so they made their way over to him to thank him for his hospitality.

    Alec broke off mid-conversation with a gaggle of young women who had been fawning over him.

    “It is so lovely to see you again,” he bowed deeply, earning Aellana a glare from the prettiest of the girls.

    “It was a wonderful performance. Your opening song was especially beautiful.” And she meant it.

    “I am so pleased you enjoyed it. You were my muse.” He shuffled from foot to foot, glancing in Bishop’s direction nervously. “My lady, if I may, will you join me for a drink tonight? I have many more songs I would love to sing you.” She felt Bishop stiffen beside her. “I wish to hear all your stories from the road. We could have an unforgettable night together.”

    “On that note, we should probably leave.” She took Bishop’s arm to steer him away, not bothering to say anything more to Alec who stood watching them, mouth flapping in surprise like a fish gasping for air. Aellana suspected that his silver tongue had ensured he was never rejected. This was probably a first for him.

    “Thank the Gods we’re leaving,” Bishop said a little too loudly. “That performance had me convinced a Daedra had trapped us in a realm of torture.”

    “Don’t be dramatic, Bish. The performance was amazing.”

    “It was passable, I suppose,” he conceded. “But how can a man like him think he has anything to offer a woman like you. I know his type. Grew up wealthy, spent a lot of time in palaces. He may turn a pretty tune, but do you think he’d ever be able to watch your back in a fight. He can sing about danger, but I bet he’d turn tail and run if he ever really experienced it.”

    “HAH!” They both turned back to Alec who, truth be told, they’d forgotten was still standing there. Aellana’s cheeks flushed at Bishop’s rudeness, but she couldn’t fault the truth in his words.

    “You know it’s true. The only thing she will remember of you this night is the sight of you retreating as we leave.”

    “Think of what she could accomplish with me by her side. Her name would be sung from every rooftop in Skyrim until the end of time!”

    “Haven’t you forgotten the most important thing? What about what she wants?”

    “I, um...”

    “That’s right, bard. You’re too busy having a pissing competition with me that you forgot the most important person in this exchange. You can’t appreciate a woman like her until you appreciate she has a mind of her own. You’re too focused on holding court to really give her what she needs. Someone wild, and free.”

    Alec turned to her. “So, you like wild and free men, my lady?” Aellana just stared at the two of them in total confusion. This entire situation had gone beyond her. Bishop seemed completely unaware of the irony of speaking for her while telling another man to think of her point of view, so she thought it best to remain silent while they got their testosterone-fuelled jealousy out of their system. “I can show you a wild and free man, right here. We could live and love together. Forever. Freely.”

    At that, she raised an eyebrow. “You hardly know me, Alec. We literally met today.”

    “But you speak to my soul, my lady. You are the kind of woman bards have sung about for eons. If wild and free is what you need, it is what I am willing to give.”

    “Wild? Free?” Bishop let out a deep bellied laugh, and she could have sworn she saw Alec shrink under the scrutiny. “What are you going to do when you fight your first dragon? Pull out your lute and bore it to death?”

    Alec seemed to deflate at that. He was no fighter, that much was clear.

    “I apologise if I have offended you, my lady. I will leave you to your travels.”

    “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Alec,” Aellana said, trying not to let pity creep into her voice.

    “It pains me to see you leave, my beautiful muse. But this is not the last time we will meet, I can feel it.” He bowed deeply, turned on his heel and rejoined his admirers across the room.

    “Well, that was awkward,” Thaiden said, somewhat redundantly. “Was it too much to ask for just one uneventful evening around you two?”

    Bishop shrugged apologetically, and smiled roguishly. “If we wanted boring we probably shouldn’t have joined up with the Dragonborn.”

 

* * *

   

The safe-house was down a dark alley, hidden from prying eyes. It was an excellent location, not too seedy as to attract the wrong attention, and not too upper class as to seem obvious. They followed the instructions from Erevvus to the letter, making sure they weren’t followed. The house itself was unassuming but spacious, and Erevvus greeted them at the door, quickly ushering them into the entrance hall and into the basement where Malborn was hidden.

    As she entered the stairwell, Aellana felt her skin prickle with nerves. She felt anxious, but couldn’t quite place why. She shrugged it off. It was probably just nerves brought on by the constant state of alert they’d been in, serpentining their way through the Grey Quarter. Constantly looking over their shoulders was sure to take its toll eventually.

    Malborn was in the centre of the room, sitting straight-backed on a chair, facing the door as they walked through. Aellana waved a hand in greeting, noticing only at the last moment that his feet and hands were tied as he cried out to her.

    “Dragonborn, no!”

    Before she could register the danger, a hooded figure stepped out from a screen behind Malborn’s chair. She felt Bishop notch his bow behind her and both Frea and Thaiden reach for their weapons at the same time, stepping forward to defend Malborn. But it was too late. The figure raised an object that glinted menacingly in the firelight, and plunged it down, embedding a silver-handed dagger in the Bosmer’s neck.

    He looked up at her pleadingly, the fear in his eyes slowly fading as he gasped for breath until his body jerked once, twice, until finally, his head lolled forward onto his chest, still as the grave.

    Bishop was about to let his arrow fly, but Aellana placed a hand on his arm, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “wait.”

    He looked at her in confusion, as did Frea. But Thaiden had seen what she had. The silver dagger protruding from Malborn’s neck was unmistakable, even now, covered in his blood. How many times had she and Thaiden seen it as children? It had been a wedding gift from the Erelund family to the Evensnow’s on the marriage of their son. Tynand, her father, had hand-crafted the hilt lovingly over months, and Sigrund had used it daily to open her many correspondences.

    “Why?” Aellana whispered as the figure behind Malborn pulled back the hood, revealing one of the most painfully beautiful faces that Bishop had ever seen, and a shock of white hair.

    “Did you think you could go up against a man as powerful and influential as Gunmar Jurgarinson and there would be no consequences? This is just the first of many lives you will destroy by your continued defiance, girl. I may have wielded the weapon, but it was you who killed this man.”

    “No,” Aellana ran forward, kneeling before Malborn’s limp body, willing him to wake up. Her breath came in choked sobs, as she begged and pleaded with him to please, please wake up. Frea was by her side, attempting to comfort her while Thaiden wrestled with Bishop who was trying to plunge his own dagger into the hooded woman.

    “Gunmar is willing to give you one more chance, Aellana. I’m willing to give you one more chance. I suggest you don’t waste it.”

    “The assassin.” Aellana sobbed. “We killed him.”

    “A diversion, courtesy of Elenwen. Ervvus played his part too. There’s nothing money can’t buy.”

    It had been too easy. She’d known it had been too easy. She’d been enjoying an evening out while Malborn had been tied up, here, in this house, frightened and alone. There was no depth to the self-loathing she felt at the moment. She would happily have sacrificed herself to marriage with Gunmar Jurgarinson if she’d known it could have saved Malborn’s life. How could she have been so selfish?

    “How could you?” She looked up into the other woman’s eyes, hoping for some spark of sympathy, but all she saw there was cold, hard, indifference.

    “I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you," the woman said, once again raising the hood of her cloak. "We’ll expect you at Evensnow manner in a fortnight. All the arrangements have been made, so all you need to do is show up.”

    With that, the woman swept her way past the two men still struggling in the doorway, giving Bishop a pointed, icy look that stopped him right in his tracks. When she was gone Thaiden finally released him and he turned angrily, demanding to know what was going on.

    “What the hell, Thaiden? We could have stopped her! Who the hell was that?”

    But he knew, even before Thaiden answered. The resemblance had been unmistakable.

    “That, my friend, was Sigrund Evensnow. Aellana’s mother.”


	30. A Wedding and a Funeral

    Aellana had barely spoken on the journey back to Whiterun. Any attempts to engage her in conversation had been met with wan smiles and shrugged apologies. Sigrund’s deadline had put them all on edge, and none of them were in any doubt of Aellana’s current headspace.

They had placed Malborn’s body in the basement of Breezehome as they waited for Delphine’s arrival, an ice enchantment halting decay. They’d sent word ahead so she could notify his friends and family, but her reply was simply that she’d be coming alone. The Thalmor had killed Malborn’s entire family. When he’d joined The Blades, he’d taken on a new identity and let all his old acquaintances assume he’d perished with the rest of his kin. The man Malborn had been was dead. There was no one left to mourn him.

Aellana spent most days locked in the basement with the body emerging only for meals. She’d asked to be left alone, and her companions had respected her request. Thaiden and Frea were staying with the Companions, taking the time to speak to Kodlak. He had agreed that their current struggles were a priority and was facilitating how they could continue their agreements with the group while still working independently against the dragon threat. Bishop and Karnwyr, on the other hand, were staying in Breezehome, trying their best to avoid Lydia who spent the days skulking in corridors and popping up where they least expected.

Despite sharing her home, Bishop had barely seen Aellana since they’d returned. She hardly moved from her position by Malborn’s body, and by the third day, Bishop had had enough. Grief was something he understood all too well, but wallowing in it was not helpful. He would get her outside and into the fresh air if it killed him.

He knocked gently on the door to the basement, and when there was no answer, he simply let himself in. Aellana had a workshop and studio set up for herself although she had made very little use of it since Breezehome had come into her possession. The room smelled of oil and turpentine and crackled with unspent magic. A large, stone workbench dominated the centre of the room, on which Malborn’s body lay. Each wall was covered in shelves on which stood herbs, gems, and tinctures used to make paints and potions. An enchanting table was tucked into a corner between two large bookshelves filled to overflowing with scrolls and tomes, and there, in the opposite corner sat Aellana, almost completely hidden behind an easel, a look of profound concentration on her face.

“Lana?” Bishop called, tentatively.

Aellana looked up, jumping in fright at the intrusion.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” she stammered, trying to brush some newly splashed paint off her already stained white, cotton shirt.

“I’m going crazy in the house on my own. It was either come down and see you or challenge Lydia to a fight to the death for my amusement.”

Aellana smiled at that, despite herself, and Bishop took that as an invitation to approach. As he rounded the easel to look at what she was working on, he caught his breath, and for a few moments was rendered utterly speechless. Aellana looked sheepish at first, but then looked at him expectantly. She’d never thought anyone would see her work, but her artist’s pride still craved validation.

“What do you think?”

Bishop looked at her, then back at the easel, shaking his head.

“Aellana, it’s amazing.” He couldn’t find the right words to describe what he was seeing. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

A portrait of Malborn sat on the easel, mostly finished, save for a few brush-strokes. The execution was excellent, realistic, and lifelike, but the experience of the painting wasn’t in how it looked, but how it made him feel. Even at first glance, a range of emotions from grief, to joy, love, and loss accosted Bishop’s senses. In a single moment, he felt he knew Malborn like an old friend. They had barely known each other, but at that moment he felt he truly understood the elf.

“It’s not quite finished,” Aellana said by way of apology when Bishop said nothing more, but he just shook his head in wonder.

“It's perfect, Lana. How on earth have you made it so,” he paused, searching for the right word, “evocative?”

“I enchanted it,” she said with a blush. “I was never as good an artist as the rest of my family. I always had more of a talent for magic. I used to enchant decorative weapons and jewellery for them, but as far as I know, no one has ever tried it with a painting before.” She paused, debating whether to tell him more and decided to trust him. “I did something else though.”

He looked at her, an eyebrow arched, while she shuffled nervously in her seat. She’d debated with herself for nearly a full day before committing to it, and even now she didn’t know if she’d made the right decision.

“Lana, whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t judge.”

“I took a part of his soul and enchanted it into the portrait.”

“You...what?” Bishop looked at her, astonished.

“When I kill Dragons, I gain their power by consuming their souls. I’ve always wondered if it would work on anything else, so I tried it with Malborn. It worked, but I didn’t consume it. I saved it."  When Bishop looked confused, she pressed on, willing him to understand. "It was like I had a little pocket in my brain where I could store magic, and in it, I saved all of Malborn’s feelings and memories, like a keepsake. I’ve been slowly imbuing the painting with it. This isn’t just his portrait, it’s the essence of who he was.”

“But, his soul....?” Bishop wasn’t a religious man in the slightest, but it seemed kind of a big deal to literally steal a man’s soul.

“I don’t think 'soul' is the right word, but it seems to be what everyone uses. It’s more an imprint or an impression. With dragons, it’s how they store their magic, but it doesn’t consume their identity. The same went for Malborn. He didn’t cease to be Malborn. If I’d left it there, it would simply have ceased to exist as his body decayed. It’s like containing the final pulses of life, distilled at the point of death.”

“Like a flame. It will always extinguish, but you can transfer it to keep the fire burning.”

“Exactly!” He’d understood. At that moment Aellana was so grateful that she threw herself into his arms and kissed him deeply.

“What was that for, ladyship?”

“Just for being you.” She smiled at him sheepishly then, embarrassed by her sudden show of emotion. “Bish, can I show you something else?”

“Anything. Although I have some preferences of what you could show me if you’re willing to take suggestions,” he said with a playful wink.

She teasingly poked her tongue out, but otherwise ignored the jest, reaching up into the bookshelf behind them to retrieve a leather-bound book that he vaguely recognised. He could have sworn he’d seen her with it on the road by the firelight as they had travelled.

“I've been documenting our journeys,” she admitted, passing him the book, careful of the pages that threatened to spill out of the binding. He flicked through every page, tracing a finger across her painfully neat script, and staring in wonder at the illustrations dotted on almost every page. Every scene she’d drawn matched his memory perfectly, and he whistled through his teeth in admiration.

It wasn’t just their journey that had been documented though. She’d also drawn detailed portraits of those they’d met along the way, as well as her travelling companions. Thaiden looked out from one page, boyish and charming, his eyes glittering with barely concealed mirth. Frea stood tall and proud, the epitome of Nord perfection, her hair whipping across her face, lending her an air of mystery and knowledge. Karnwyr frolicked on the page, chasing a butterfly through the forest, but it was his own portrait that had Bishop sucking his breath in between his teeth. Aellana had seen him in a way that no one had ever seen him. She’d drawn him in vivid detail, kneeling in the grass as if tracking his quarry. His eyes were hooded, dark, and mysterious, his face hinting at pain just below the surface. The level of detail was striking, and with surprise, he realised that she’d even drawn the wolf ring on his finger that he carried with him at all times. She’d never even mentioned it, and he was surprised it was something she’d noticed.

“What made you draw the ring?” he asked.

Aellana shrugged. “I’ve never seen you take it off. It’s as much a part of you as that bow or your wolf. It didn’t seem right to draw you without it.”

At that, he gave her an unreadable look, and without another word took her hand.

“Come on Princess. It’s a beautiful day. You can show me more of this outside.”

 

* * *

 

They’d left Whiterun’s Hall of the Dead just after sundown. Malborn’s service had been short, and no one had quite known what to say. They’d barely known him, and yet they were the reason he was dead. He deserved better than the meagre few words they’d been able to bandy about. Delphine had quickly excused herself, citing travel as the reason for her hasty exit, but Aellana suspected it was just that she was socially awkward and didn’t want to spend time talking about other people. So, it was Bishop, Thaiden, Frea, and herself who trudged into the Bannered Mare, silent and sulking, to drink to Malborn’s health.

It was Frea who finally broke the silence that had stretched between them for the last few days regarding Sigrund’s ultimatum. If there was anything she’d learned about her friend in these past months, it was that Aellana had a fierce sense of protection. There was no way she hadn’t considered marrying Jurgarinson.

“What can I do, Frea?” Aellana’s voice was desperate and raw with emotion. The Gods knew she didn’t want to marry that odious man, but it had already cost one life. She would never live with herself if it cost another. “I won’t let anyone else get hurt. Not for me.”

Bishop was uncharacteristically silent. There was no way he would ever let Aellana marry that man, but at the same time, he failed to see any way he could stop her. It was her decision to make, and his willingness to die a thousand deaths to spare her from that fate meant very little if she had already made up her mind.

“Frea and I had an idea on that. We think we can give you a loophole that will diffuse the whole situation.”

“I’m all ears. I’ll consider anything at this point. I’ve been wracking my brain for days, and coming up empty.”

“Marry me,” Thaiden said, simply.

Bishop and Aellana went silent, staring at Thaiden as if he’d just announced the end of the world.

“Come again?” Bishop said in shock, while Thaiden threw him an apologetic look.

“Marry me. Frea and I have spoken about it, and there is no way that Jurgarinson can marry you if you’re already married.”

“We couldn’t have you throw your life away,” added Frea. “Not when we could help.”

“And yet you want me to let you throw your own lives away?” Aellana countered in consternation. “For me?”

“It would just be on paper,” Thaiden tried to argue. “Our relationships remain the same, but legally you and I would be bound.”

“But you and Frea never could be! I mean, you know I love you Thaiden, but I’m not getting married for convenience, and would never ask it of you.”

“We both agreed, Aellana. It’s a decision we’re willing to make to keep you safe.”

“Frea, Thaiden, I’m touched. Really, I am. But did you ever in your wildest dreams think I’d accept that kind of sacrifice from you? Ruining your lives, your love? It goes against everything I’m fighting against, and everything I’d achieve by marrying Jurgarinson in the first place.” Thaiden opened his mouth as if to protest, but Aellana put a comforting hand on his arm. “No, my friend. I can’t do it.”

“Then just don’t go,” Thaiden pleaded. “It’s a danger we’re willing to face. It’s our choice as much as yours, and,” he looked around the table as everyone nodded in assent, “we all choose to brave that danger. With you.”

“I’ll consider it. I promise. But please, for tonight, let’s just drink and enjoy this time as friends.”

 

* * *

 

Bishop groaned at the glare of the dawn light streaming through the window of this strange room. Something felt off, and he couldn’t quite place it until the memories of the night came crashing over him. Feelings of self-loathing threatened to overwhelm him as he remembered Thaiden’s offer. The man had offered to marry Aellana, with no thought other than her safety. That was real love.

Over the past few weeks, Bishop had finally admitted to himself that he had feelings for Aellana. He hadn’t entirely been ready to call it love, but it definitely felt like he was getting there. When Thaiden had offered himself as a sacrifice to keep her safe, Bishop had known at that moment that he wasn’t worthy of her. He should have offered himself there and then. Begged her on one knee not to go, to marry him instead. He swore to himself he’d do anything to keep her safe, so why, oh why could he not have done that one, simple thing?

Marriage was permanent, and it was final. Bishop had seen too many marriages fall apart because they’d been forced on the couple, or they’d made rash decisions. His own parents had hated each other, and if Tielian’s death had taught him anything, it’s that those decisions had consequences. He’d seen the pain that marriage could cause if it wasn’t the right one, and he had sworn to himself long ago that he would only be married once, to the right person, for the right reasons. He didn’t doubt that Aellana could make him happy, but he didn’t know yet whether she was the one. And more importantly, he very much questioned whether he was the one for her.  What could a feckless Ranger like himself possibly have to offer a woman like Aellana?

Someone moaned sleepily in the bed beside him, and he sat up with a start.  _No, no, no,_ he thought to himself as he pulled the covers back to see his fears realised. The woman beside him was not Aellana.

The memories came thick and fast. They’d all drunk too much ale, Frea and Thaiden had left early, and then he and Aellana had fought. He’d forbidden her to marry Jurgarinson, and they’d screamed at each other, publicly, with no shame. He begged and pleaded with her not to go, but the more he ranted, the more stoic she’d become until finally, he’d told her to do what she wanted, the consequences be damned. She’d looked at him with hurt in her eyes and stormed out of the inn, and he’d just carried on drinking. He barely remembered stumbling to an upstairs room at the inn. He remembered vaguely that a woman had joined him and kept plying him with ale. He’d resisted at first, but whenever his thoughts drifted back to Aellana, he found himself angry all over again, until finally, he’d relented, for no other reason than he wanted to hurt her. He wanted Aellana to feel the betrayal that he felt in that moment, watching a woman that he cared about consider selling herself in marriage to another man.

Now, in the harsh light of morning, he could see how foolish he’d been. If he could turn back the clock, he’d have played the whole night differently. But here he was, and the damage was done.

Bishop leaned over, shaking the woman roughly by the shoulder.

“Get out,” he growled, as the woman turned to him, bleary-eyed.

“What?” she mumbled, a little smile playing on her lips as she tried to sit up and kiss him good morning.

“I said, get out,” he said again, his voice coming out low, and menacing.

“You can’t be serious?” The woman sat up and had the nerve to look offended, and something in Bishop snapped. He took her by the wrist, dragging her bodily from the bed, grabbed her clothes from the floor and pushed her out the door into the corridor, throwing the bundle at her feet. The look of shock on her face was the last thing he saw as he slammed the door, beating his fist against it so hard he could have sworn he heard his bones creak under the strain.

He cried out, like a wounded animal, placing his back against the rough wood of the door, howling out his pain as he sank to the floor.  _I’m so sorry, Aellana_ , he sobbed silently to himself.  _What have I done?_

 

* * *

 

It had taken Bishop only a moment to collect himself. He had thrown on some clothes, splashed cold water on his face and made his way straight to Breezehome to tell Aellana everything and beg her forgiveness. When he got there, however, an angry Lydia answered the door, telling him snarkily that Aellana had left in the early hours. Without asking permission, he saddled one of the horses from the stable and rode in the direction of Riverwood, desperately hoping that he was following Aellana’s route.

He rode hard and fast, and it was just over an hour before he caught sight of her in the distance. He spurred his exhausted horse forward, crying her name as the scenery sped by.

“Bishop, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she pleaded as they dismounted, searching his eyes for understanding. This was the most difficult decision she’d ever had to make, and the Ranger was making it almost impossible for her to go through with it.

“Lana, I can’t. I’m sorry. You can’t go.”

“Bish, we went through this last night, and you made it very clear that you didn’t approve. But I’ve made up my mind it’s the only way. I know we’ve grown close, and I’ll always remember you fondly, but you’re a good-looking man, it won’t take you long to forget all about me.”

Her words stung, and his cheeks coloured with shame as he remembered the woman in his bed. Without thought, he told Aellana everything that had happened. His guilt at being unwilling to marry her, and his absolute disgust at the fact that he’d slept with another woman just to hurt her.

To his surprise, she laughed. 

“Bishop, there is nothing to be angry about. You and I, we have a great thing, but we never agreed to exclusivity. I’ve slept with Thaiden and Casavir, and you’ve had your fair share of tavern wenches. Neither of us has been exactly faithful. We barely even know if we’re more than a fling, what would make you think I’d expect you to marry me? I watched my parents live in a loveless marriage, and you’ve seen the type of woman it made of my mother. If I ever marry it will be for love, and I want the same for my friends.”

“But you don’t love Jurgarinson,” Bishop pointed out.

“True, but I’m still marrying for love. You, Thaiden, Frea, you’re my family, and I love you all. I’m going willingly to protect you all. I may not love the man I’m marrying, but I love you all enough to make this sacrifice.”

“But what about us?” Bishop said quietly. “What about the people who love you back? Don’t we have the right to choose our fates? Can’t we love you enough to take whatever risks may come?”

Aellana’s heart gave a little flutter at Bishop’s use of the word love, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. This was not the time to start over-analysing.

“Bishop....”

“By leaving you will hurt the very people you’re trying to protect. The only way we come through this is together. Don’t go, because we will do anything to get you back. We will take on Jurgarinson, an army, your mother, and even the gods themselves if that’s what it takes.”

He looked so lost and so hurt that Aellana felt her resolve falter. Her friends weren’t helpless. Perhaps together they could fend off whatever Jurgarinson would throw their way?

“Alright.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll drag you...” Bishop stopped, cold. “Wait, what?”

“Alright, you win. I’m coming home.”

Bishop’s honey-coloured eyes lit up as his face broke into the most genuine smile Aellana had ever seen him wear. Before she could change her mind, he took her hand in his and slipped his wolf ring onto her middle finger. It took a few moments for her to comprehend what it was, but as realisation dawned, she could do nothing but stare at him in surprise.

“I want you to have this.”

“Your ring?” she stared at her hand as if it belonged to a complete stranger. You never take it off!”

“It’s important to me, and I guess this is my way of saying that so are you.”

“Bishop, I...”

“It was a gift from my brother, a long time ago.”

“I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

He laughed, a low sound underscored with ancient hurts.

“I had two brothers and a sister. All dead. Of my family, I’m the only one left.”

“Bishop,” Aellana breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

He waved a hand dismissively, but the sadness in his eyes belied the casual gesture.

“It was a long time ago. This ring was my way of keeping them close. You know me, I’m not particularly sentimental, but my family life wasn’t exactly easy. I guess a keepsake was a way of making sure I never turned out like them."

Aellana shook her head, “I can’t accept this. It’s far too important to you.”

“It’ll fit you better,” Bishop smiled, leaning down to give her a gentle yet lingering kiss, right on the lips. “It’s been mostly bad memories for me,” he breathed. “Seeing you wear it might finally make it mean something good. I don’t know what any of this means yet, but I want to find out. I care about you Aellana Evensnow, and no matter what else happens between us, there is no one I would rather be with, in this moment, than you.”

“I...Bishop...thank you,” Aellana gasped.

“You can thank me later,” he said with a wink. “Very thoroughly. Between the sheets.”


	31. A Rat and a Raven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me guys. I might be a little slow in updating as work is hectic and our elderly dog is recently disabled so takes a great deal of care. I'm still writing and updating when I can, so I appreciate you all for following along while Aellana makes her way through Skyrim :)

There was something dark about Riften, despite its beauty. The city remained busy, but beneath its veneer of diligent commerce, there was something unsavoury, overshadowing everything like an oil slick. The markets were bustling, but pickpockets operated with abandon. The canals and waterways lay still and stagnant, and Aellana found herself hardly surprised that the Thieves Guild had chosen a place like this as their base of operations.

It had taken Delphine a month to confirm that Esbern was, in fact, in Riften. She’d received conflicting reports from multiple sources, but Etienne’s intelligence in the aftermath of the Thalmor Embassy had turned out to be sound. Aellana and her friends had taken the intervening time to pick up some jobs for the Companions in an attempt to garner their favour once more. With everything that had been going on both she and Thaiden had shirked their duties to the group, and Aellana was still grateful for their acceptance of her when she had nowhere else to turn. She wouldn’t soon forget Kodlak’s kindness.

Through a lucky twist of fate, they had just finished clearing out a bandit camp near Riften when Delphine had sent confirmation of Esbern’s whereabouts. As much as Aellana detested being Delphine’s errand girl, in this matter, their goals were aligned. The Blades had experience in espionage, and without them, Aellana and her companions would be no closer to discovering the secrets of the dragons’ return. And so, here they were, in the thief-run commercial hub of the Rift.

There had not yet been any fallout from her mother’s ultimatum which had passed two weeks ago, but it had still put the group on edge. They expected an attack from every corner and walking into a place where the Thieves Guild had such a presence was proving trying. Every eye seemed to wander toward them, judging, sizing them up. Every person who approached them had the potential to be an assassin.

“You there!” A tall Nord in full battle armour stopped them as they proceeded down Riften’s main thoroughfare. “State your business, newcomers.”

“Back off!” Bishop growled, placing himself between the man and Aellana.

“Looking for trouble?” The man rumbled back but shrugged as he continued. “Be warned. We don’t take kindly to troublemakers here. I’d watch your back if I were you,” before slinking off into the dark alleyways that snaked off the main path like eels in blackened water.

Within moments Aellana felt something brush against her arm, and she turned to see a boy trying to slink off with her coin purse.

“Hey!” she called after him as Bishop gave chase, but as she moved to follow, she found her way blocked by a young man who leered at her menacingly.

“First time in Riften, travellers? I suggest the rest of you hand over your purses. I find myself somewhat light on coin.” The young man stopped, a look of shock settling over his handsome, albeit somewhat dirty, features as he finally took the time to look Aellana over. “By the Gods, you’re the Dragonborn!”

Thaiden had already reached behind him to unsheathe his greatsword, and Frea’s axe was at the ready as they stepped up behind Aellana, giving the young man a scowl that could have withered corn.

“I think we’ll be keeping our money, thank you,” Aellana replied, nonplussed. This man was messing with the wrong travellers.

A beaming smile that lit up his brown eyes suddenly replaced the vicious look of just a moment ago. He was as dark as the city itself, with hair as black as night, and deep-set eyes. “Every bard in Skyrim is singing tales of your beauty now,” he said with a wink, and Aellana flushed in embarrassment opening her mouth to argue. The young man just shrugged, as if her protestations wouldn’t matter. “You seem to have made quite an impression on one of them. Word travels fast.”

“Seriously?” Thaiden looked at the man with barely concealed disgust. “She can kill a dragon with nothing more than the sound of her voice, and all you men can talk about is the fact that you think she’s pretty?”

“And rich,” the man added. “Don’t forget that she’s filthy rich, especially now she’s tied herself to the house of Jurgarinson.”

“What?” the three of them cried in unison.

“Don’t act so coy. The ceremony was as lavish as they come, or so the invitation implied after I picked it off the corpse of a dead noble just three weeks ago.” The man inspected some dirt under his nails as if bored by the entire conversation. “You know, _after_ I killed him for the jewels he was wearing. So, Lady Jurgarinson,” his voice dripped with sarcasm as he emphasised the name. It was a slight, as everyone knew full well the Evensnows always kept their names after marriage. “I suggest that you and your companions hand over what coin you have, or I’ll be forced to send word to your dear husband that his brand new, blushing bride is traipsing around the country in the company of Rangers,” he indicated the direction in which Bishop had disappeared, before pointing to himself, “and Thieves.”

“I don’t think so. I don't traipse. We aren't friends. And I’m not married.” Aellana’s hands crackled with magic, and after a brief pause, the young man just laughed.

“You really are a firecracker! The bards really haven't done you justice." He bowed in mock deference, "I’m Raven. Anyone who stands up to a pig like Jurgarinson is okay by me, and it means you’re still on the market,” he finished with a roguish wink.

Aellana just stared at him, hardly able to comprehend the man’s change in demeanour.

“You literally just tried to rob us!”

“Not you. Jurgarinson. The man’s an ass, and I question anyone’s sanity who ties themselves to someone like him. Now come on, Dragonborn. Don’t leave me hanging,” he said, extending a hand.

Without thinking, Aellana reached forward. Her social training kicked in, and suddenly she was so worried about being rude that she forgot that she was in Riften, talking to a thief. As her hand made contact with Raven’s, he quickly pulled her to him, dipping her down in a long, deep kiss that made her squeak in surprise. When he finally released her, she slapped him, hard, anger clouding her features as she grabbed Thaiden and Frea and stalked off after Bishop. Raven ’s cruel laughter followed them as they disappeared around a corner, Aellana almost colliding with Bishop in her haste to get away from the slimy thief.

Bishop took one look at Aellana’s face, and his brow creased with worry. “You ok, princess?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped, and before he could argue she stalked off in a direction she hoped would lead her to the nearest tavern, leaving Thaiden and Frea to explain what had just happened.

 

* * *

 

“That explains the ultimatum,” Frea said once they were safely installed at a table in The Bee and Barb, one of Riften’s two, bustling inns. A local guide had informed them proudly that it was the only tavern in all of Skyrim who refused to employ a bard, and now that Alec was singing his Dragonborn odes all over the country, being away from one, for once, sounded ideal.

Frea had quickly filled Bishop in on their meeting with Raven, and what he had revealed about the wedding. At one point Thaiden had to physically push him back into his seat to stop him rushing off to pick a fight with the man, but a pleading look from Aellana was all it took to calm him. If invitations to a wedding had been sent on the assumption of Aellana’s acceptance, then this calm they had been experiencing was just a prelude to the storm. There was no way that there would be no fallout from a public humiliation like that. If most of the rich, wealthy and powerful of Skyrim had been invited to a wedding, and the bride hadn’t shown up, there was no way Jurgarinson had lived it down. Although, each of them did wonder how on earth it was that a scandal of that type hadn’t reached them yet.

Thaiden went to purchase their drinks, and when he returned, he came with a fiery-haired, bearded Norn in tow. The man was striking. He was large, with a warrior’s physique, a square jaw and sharp features. He was somehow ageless, his beard neatly trimmed, and his flame-red hair brushing over his shoulders setting his eyes ablaze.

“This is Brynjolf,” Thaiden said by way of introduction. “He may have some information for us.”

Not for the first time, Aellana found herself thanking the loose tongues in the taverns of Skyrim. Delphine and The Blades may have had the upper hands with political espionage, but with companions like Thaiden and Bishop, they could always count on the taverns to point them in the right direction.

“We’re looking for a man named Esbern. Would you know how to find him?”

“Sure,” Brynjolf’s eyes wandered to the coin purse that was once again safely installed at Aellana’s hip, thanks to Bishop. “But, it’ll cost you.”

Of course it would, Aellana thought to herself, wryly. When did anyone in this godsforsaken country give anything out for free? But instead, she simply said, “how much.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not coin I’m after, although you may want to stop wearing yours so openly. But you’re the Dragonborn, or so I’ve heard, and there’s a little business I could use taking care of.”

“What kind of business?”

“I need you to steal a ring.”

Aellana shook her head emphatically. “Absolutely not. I’m no thief.”

The man looked angry at that, and rose, spilling her ale as he did. “This is the city of thieves, Dragonborn. You’re either with us or against us. You’ll do well to remember that.”

He stalked off, nearly toppling over the Argonian proprietor of the inn who snarled at him as he passed. She spat in his direction, baring her teeth as he disappeared out the door before approaching their table, her expression suddenly transformed to an open and welcoming smile if the crinkling at her eyes was anything to go by. Aellana hadn’t had many dealings with Argonians and, she hated to admit it, she found the expressions on their reptilian features incredibly difficult to read.

“Whatever you said to Brynjolf really seems to have wound him up!” She clapped Bishop heartily on the back, and for a moment Aellana thought that he was going to retaliate, but he quickly relaxed, accepting the woman’s invasion of his space with a gentle nod. “Please, these drinks are on the house.”

“That’s very generous,” Aellana paused, waiting for the Argonian to fill the silence with her name.

“Keerava,” she offered, extending a rough and scaled hand in introduction. “And you’re the Dragonborn. I can’t imagine what the likes of Brynjolf would want with you?”

“How did you know I was the Dragonborn?”

“I run an inn. Word tends to travel, and I keep my ear to the ground.”

“The two of you don’t get along?” Bishop indicated in the direction of the door with a raised eyebrow, and Keerava just shrugged.”

“He’s a member of the Thieves Guild. I’ve tried to keep myself out of their business, and every time I get clear, they just drag me back in. Bryn is one of their lackeys and says I owe him money. ‘Protection’, he calls it,” she spat to the side in disgust. “I call it good, old-fashioned extortion.”

“I’m sorry.” Frea rose from her place at the table to place a comforting hand on the other woman’s arm.

“He wanted us to steal something for him,” Thaiden began, but hurried his words at Keerava’s alarmed look, attempting to placate her, “we said no. We want nothing to do with any of that business.”

“It does mean, however, that we’re a little short on information. Keerava?” Bishop looked up at the Argonian from his seat beside her, “you seem to be incredibly well informed. Brynjolf isn’t going to open up to us any time soon, do you think you could help?”

“That depends,” Keerava looked suspicious, but her words invited elaboration. “Will this information get anyone hurt?”

“Not at all. Quite the opposite in fact. We’re looking for a man named Esbern who is hiding in the Thieves Guild. We believe he has vital information about the return of the dragons.”

“Esbern? Why didn’t you say so?” The Argonian brightened. “I can tell you exactly where he is, grumpy old fool. He not half as good at hiding as he thinks he is. You’re not the first to come asking for him.”

“We’re not?” Aellana’s voice rose in alarm.

“Some elf was here a few days back. I overheard him asking Bryn about him. Bryn said he’d trade the information for a job. I suspect it was the same deal you got. The elf said yes, but I heard Bryn and some friends laughing about the elf utterly failing at whatever job they’d given him, so I suspect he left empty-handed.”

With that, Keerava ducked behind the bar to retrieve some parchment and a stick of charcoal, speaking out loud as she quickly scribbled down directions to somewhere called The Ratway, bidding them a cheery farewell with a word of caution.

“You’ll be heading into the thieves’ den. Crime in the city is at an all-time high, but it’s no secret that the Thieves Guild is tearing itself apart from the inside. It’ll be no loss to the city, and no loss to its inhabitants if they do, but watch your backs. Desperate thieves are capable of pretty much anything.”


End file.
